MURDEROUS PLAN OF THE INSURGENTS.
On my arrival at the manager"s office, I found him in consultation with the Prefecto of Arequipa and the General in command of the regular army. I was informed that another revolution was about to be attempted in Peru in favor of General Pierola.
The General said he had a valuable package which must be delivered to the Prefecto of Puno, that in the event the package was captured it would ruin all their plans. Would I undertake to deliver it for the government? I turned to the general manager and, speaking to him in English, said: "There is some mystery connected with this. Before I pledge myself to do this, it will be necessary to have a clear understanding." He repeated my request to the General, who informed me that a secret message had come over the wires that a revolution had broken out again, and this time the insurgents had taken possession of several points to prevent the government troops from reaching Puno; that the package I was to take was a notice to the Prefecto of Puno, for himself and those in favor of the government, to proceed to a designated place, where the government troops would arrive, and march by stages to Puno.
I realized the danger connected with this undertaking and accepted the responsibility with some trepidation. A generous reward awaited me if I succeeded, but it was understood in accepting the perilous message, no instructions were to be given me; that I was to use my own judgment and, if danger threatened the package, to destroy it before it should be captured.
The little Arequipena had long since been rebuilt, and I at once proceeded to put her in readiness for the journey. Manuel, my fireman, was a native of Arequipa, a powerfully built and st.u.r.dy fellow. He had been much among the British and American railway men and could understand English.
After leaving orders as to the time of starting, I called on an English friend and confided my mission. I asked him, in event of my death, to write to my relatives in Scotland, giving the details. He did everything in his power to dissuade me, but I told him his talk was idle. No use, I had made up my mind. Upon seeing the Arequipena ready, the men in the shops questioned me, but I evaded their questions.
I went to the office of the general manager and he gave me the package, unaddressed, done up securely, and sealed with red wax. I placed it in the inside pocket of my vest. The manager asked me to be careful with myself. He would much rather I should not go, but in my state of mind, I was only too glad to get my thoughts off the sad remembrance of Felicita"s fate.
I left Arequipa at ten o"clock that night, cautiously and silently leaving the station. I arrived at Puno the following evening and lay over at Juliaca Junction a few hours. At this point the station master asked me where I was going. I replied that I had orders for Puno.
Leaving Juliaca, I arrived at Puno at exactly five o"clock. I blew the whistle for the station. I noticed that it was crowded with people, but saw no one I would suspect of being a revolutionist. I put the engine in the shed, and then went and washed up. I hid the package in a secure place, where it was impossible for anyone to find it, as I had planned to go to the hotel, eat supper and then learn my chances for getting to the Prefecto, before I took the package from its hiding place. The station of Puno, like all terminal stations of the Arequipa railway, was fenced in by corrugated iron, about eight feet high, and it was necessary to go through the station outlet, which was only opened on the arrival and departure of trains, or another outlet guarded by a dog and night watchman. I went out by the small gate, familiarly bidding the watchman good evening. This gate only employes had the right to use. I walked up town to the hotel Inca. I met several gentlemen who knew me and asked one to play a game of billiards before supper. No one seemed to think that my coming was anything more than the usual routine of railway business.
After darkness, I lit a cigar and strolled down the street where the Prefecto lived. I observed the sentry at the front entrance and upon close observation, I found that the rear of the house could be approached by a little back street connecting with a small alleyway by means of which the house could be entered from the front.
I retraced my steps to the station but did not go near the gate. I went around to the engine shed, where an opening had been made by the boys so they could get to their rooms when out late nights and avoid answering the questions of the watchman. When I reached the Arequipena, the wipers were cleaning her. I spoke to the foreman, and getting the package, went out the same way, no one noticing my departure. Then going through, the narrow street I went up the small alley and, seeing no one, presented myself at the main entrance of the Prefecto"s house. Here the sentry barred my pa.s.sage and demanded the pa.s.sword. I told him to call the officer of the guard, and when he appeared I explained that I had important business with Senor Prefecto, and desired to see him personally.
"Who are you?"
"The Senor Prefecto will answer that question," I replied.
I had folded the package and hid it in the lining of my overcoat which I had thrown over my arm. The officer withdrew for a few minutes, but soon returned and allowed me to pa.s.s the sentry. Halting in front of a large door, a signal was given and it was opened by another officer. I was ushered in, and from there into an adjoining room, where I was told to wait.
Presently there came in a priest, then an officer with side arms, and last Senor Prefecto, who asked me the nature of my business. I replied that I had a message for the Prefecto, which could be imparted to him alone. When my errand was communicated to him, he could do as he chose.
There was much hesitation before my request for a private audience was granted, but on being searched, overcoat and all, the Senor Prefecto finally agreed to see me alone. When the others had retired, I took the package from the lining of my overcoat and gave it to him.
I watched him closely as he read the contents. His face became blanched, and his hands shook in abject fear, although nothing else could have been expected from him, as he was an arrant coward.
After reading the doc.u.ment, he called the others. He handed it to the priest, who asked where I came from. I told him. Then he wanted to know if anyone had seen me enter here, and whether the arrival of the Arequipena was known. I told him I thought no one would pay any attention to the arrival of the train but would consider it the ordinary routine railway business. A consultation was held, and after they found that I knew the contents of the message I had brought, they admitted me to their council. They asked me to get the Arequipena ready, and they and the princ.i.p.al officers would flee to Arequipa. I told them that such a course could not be pursued, as all the telegraph offices were in the hands of the insurgents, and that our departure would become known, the engine surrounded and all taken prisoners. They agreed it would be impossible to escape that way, and decided that about midnight they would escape on horseback. Just then an officer arrived and reported that the insurgents had taken possession of the station, and two engines, one being the regular pa.s.senger. One of the engine runners had been taken prisoner. Their spy had reported that it was their intention to take both engines and several coaches loaded with soldiers and arms; also, large quant.i.ties of powder had been put on the Arequipena for the purpose of destroying Sumbay bridge--to prevent the pa.s.sage of government troops.
I was forgotten for the time being, their fear for their own safety outweighing all other considerations. Another officer came in and breathlessly added the climax. The regiment of regulars had joined the insurgents!
I was now doing some rapid thinking. If Sumbay bridge was destroyed and the fact not known in Arequipa, the government troops would come along and, with the engine crew, be hurled into eternity. The bridge being about one hundred and seventy-five feet high and six hundred feet long and on a curve with deep cuts on either side and a heavy down grade, it would be impossible for any train to stop, unless warned beforehand.
This was the murderous scheme of the insurgents.
I learned it was the intention of the insurgents to proceed to Vincocaya in the morning, destroy as they went along, the telegraph offices, wait at Vincocaya until the arrival of the regular pa.s.senger train from Arequipa and then proceed to Sumbay bridge. They evidently had calculated with a great deal of precision, and if their plans carried, victory would certainly be theirs.
All these things were filling me with apprehension. I knew I would be captured, but how could I save the bridge? I was determined to try at all hazards.
XIV.
FOR THE SAKE OF HUMANITY.
"This doc.u.ment calls for the payment of $10,000, and guarantees you life employment by the government of Peru, provided you save the Sumbay bridge," said the prefecto as he handed me a paper duly witnessed by the priest.
"No, Senor, I cannot accept it," I replied. "I will do my duty for the sake of humanity. It is part of my plan to be captured by the insurgents and should that paper be found on my person, I would be shot as a spy. If I succeed you can reward me."
I left the Prefecto and his party, wishing them a safe journey, and sauntered carelessly back to the Inca hotel. I entered smoking a cigar and wearing a look of unconcern, pretended I was not aware of any revolutionary movement. There were several men playing billiards in the parlors. I took a chair and sat down to watch the players. About 11 o"clock I asked to be shown to my room, and retired, knowing full well that I had been watched by a citizen of Puno since my entrance to the hotel, and I was satisfied I would soon be taken prisoner.
About 2 o"clock in the morning, I was awakened from a restless sleep by the entrance of twelve men armed with bare swords and revolvers.
They were all talking at once. I sat up in bed and appeared to be amazed. The leader requested me to dress and accompany him. The streets were lined with people shouting the old familiar cry, "Viva Pierola," as I was marched in the center of this crowd. The cry resounded down street after street. The city was wild with excitement.
The escape of the Prefecto was on every lip, as we turned at a street corner and to the station. We had great difficulty in obtaining entrance, but a pa.s.sage was cleared and I was ushered into the presence of the leader of the revolutionary forces. He was about fifty years of age, some six feet in heighth, and powerfully built, but with a countenance far from pleasing.
With little ceremony, I was notified to get the Arequipena ready to depart from the station at 7 o"clock in the morning. The princ.i.p.al officers would go with her, I was told, and the regular train would follow with the troops.
I replied that as a British subject it would be impossible for me to comply, unless force was used; that I protested against this high-handed proceeding. I did this so that, in the future, no one could accuse me of aiding the rebels willingly. He replied that he did not care for the British government, that I would do as I was told or suffer the consequences. They then escorted me to the engine house, where I found my fireman Manuel already a prisoner; also Beaumont, the other engineer, and his fireman.
After getting the engine ready, I requested the officer in charge to allow us to procure something to eat. His permission was given, then another procession marched through the streets to the hotel, where the rebel guards stood over us at breakfast.
The Arequipena was ready. Behind were the pa.s.senger engine and five coaches, which rebel troops were already entering. At breakfast I had managed to get a few words with Beaumont.
As the Arequipena was to go ahead, I would endeavor to get the officers out to eat at Vincocaya. I would give a signal for him to uncouple his engine and follow at full speed. It would be impossible to stop him and they would be at the mercy of the government troops, which would leave that afternoon, according to the instructions given the Prefecto of Puno from Arequipa.
The officers came aboard the little Arequipena and loaded on several barrels of powder, picks and shovels to destroy the abutments of the bridge.
There were eleven officers who came aboard the coach, when to my surprise, I beheld along with three soldiers, Don Rodrigo Garcia, who was to guard me. I cannot describe my feelings. I know I am not a coward, but I was taken with a shock of nervousness. It was not of long duration. Indignation took the place of fear, but I realized how formidable a task I had undertaken to save Sumbay bridge. Howbeit, I determined more than ever to succeed, and the knowledge of that man being near me, gave me renewed courage.
Before starting he hissed to me: "Don Juan, we meet again."
I did not answer. It was all I could do to keep from attacking him despite the disadvantage I was at. The thought of the bridge, however, restrained any hasty action.
We left the station with the troop train closely following. According to orders, our first stop would be at Juliaca station. I knew that when we reached there the telegraph office would be destroyed.
Telegraph communication was cut off between Juliaca station and Puno.
Nearing the station, we stopped to take water from a tank. I asked permission from the leader to allow my fireman to go and draw some oil, explaining that I had none and it was necessary, that his going there would not create suspicion, and it would save much time. I was greatly surprised when he consented. I took a small piece of paper and wrote the following in English: "Van Buren, I am coming with rebels to destroy Sumbay bridge. Hurry up troops. Buchan." After writing, I read aloud in Spanish: "Procure from Senor Southers, the station master, two quarts of engine oil for the Arequipena." I handed it to Manuel who understood my meaning. He took the engine cans and walked to the office.
My heart beat rapidly. I fairly held my breath. Would he be able to see Southers before I took water? Would Southers understand my meaning and get the message off before we arrived at the platform and find the office destroyed? I delayed taking water as long as possible, then pulled slowly down the track to the platform. The moment we stopped, the officers rushed in the telegraph office and disconnected the instruments from the wires. Don Rodrigo and his three soldiers never left me for a moment, which made me suspect that my every movement would be closely watched.
The fireman came down the platform, both engine oil cans in his hands.
I asked him if he had seen Southers. He replied that he had and that everything was all right. I received the oil and looked at him. His look told plainly that the message was sent. I felt that a heavy load had been lifted and breathed freer. I looked at Don Rodrigo. I was satisfied that in a short time we would meet in a struggle that would be the final one between us.
After the office had been destroyed we started again, the troop train always close behind us. We stopped at Cabanillas, Maravillas and Santa Lucia and carried away their telegraph instruments; then we ran direct to Vincocaya. Arriving there the telegraph office suffered like the others. I pulled down in front of the hotel, then told the officers that the pa.s.senger train was due in an hour, and that it would be impossible to proceed until its arrival. I showed him the time card to satisfy him I was telling the truth, and remarked that advantage might be taken of the time by having supper. Accordingly all of them, left the Arequipena except Don Rodrigo and the three soldiers. The officers left their arms in the little coach. Now was the time to act. Should I fail now, no other chance would present itself, for, after the arrival of the pa.s.senger train, the only stop would be at Sumbay bridge, when it would be too late. I figured that, after Van Buren had received my message from Juliaca the troops could not possibly arrive at Sumbay bridge before eight o"clock that night. It was four o"clock when we reached Vincocaya and the pa.s.senger would be leaving Sumbay station.
Pucacancha was another station between Sumbay and Vincocaya. The grade being 160 feet to the mile, the train makes very slow time between Sumbay and Pucacancha. It was my only hope to succeed in getting to Pucacancha before the arrival of the pa.s.senger train.
I was nervous. I got off the engine, then called to Manuel to hand me another oil can. I spoke to him in English to have everything ready. I was going to run away with the engine--would he a.s.sist me? This I asked while I was pretending to oil the engine, and I had to trust largely to Manuel"s intuition, as he knew but little English. He returned to the engine and raised a full head of steam. I noticed Don Rodrigo watching me from one of the side doors of the coach. I climbed back on the engine and put away the oil can, when Rodrigo said with a significant tone: "My time will soon come when I can avenge the insult I received at Tiravaya."
I did not answer. I knew his meaning. When my services were no longer required, he would, with his cowardly instinct, devise a means to kill me. The three soldiers were a fair sample of the poor ignorant Peruvians. They were armed with breech-loading rifles of French pattern, bayonets fixed. After Rodrigo had muttered his threat, he went into the little coach, sitting directly behind me, and could, by his position, observe every move I made. Manuel was standing on the left watching me. Although I had endeavored to make him understand, he was not aware of my plans. I looked back and saw the troop train taking water at the tank. I looked at Manuel, and he understood "the time had come."
With my left hand, I threw the throttle wide open and with my right blew the signal agreed upon. With a prayer to G.o.d I threw myself upon the nearest soldier.