Part 53 (1/2)

”You've had a good rest now, anyway.”

”We shall pay for it, though.”

And Cordova was not far wrong. We had barely fallen asleep when the bugles sounded. The troops rose, and mounted officers dashed about, carrying orders to different squadrons and battalions.

”Breakfast at once; ready to march in an hour,” were the commands, and we wondered what information Bolivar had obtained.

Some said one thing, some another, and very soon a fine crop of rumours sprang up. Canterac was advancing with twenty thousand men; his troops had mutinied, and declared for the Patriots; he was retreating hot-foot for Cuzco; he was a prisoner in the hands of the mountain tribes.

Every man suggested the event he fancied most, and seemed quite annoyed if one expressed any doubt of its accuracy.

”Just our luck,” grumbled Alzura. ”I did think we should have had a little rest.”

”It's just because you're here that we're moving,” laughed Plaza.

”Directly Bolivar caught sight of you and Crawford yesterday morning, he determined to march. 'Canterac won't stand against those fellows,'

he said.”

”Bolivar is a capable fellow and a good judge,” said Alzura. ”I wonder where General Miller is.”

”Went off in the night, reconnoitring with a party of mountaineers.

It's wonderful how those wild fellows have taken to him. They'll go anywhere with him. Come along; it's nearly time for us to move, and Bolivar doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE HUSSARS OF JUNIN.

Contrary to custom, we moved off the ground slowly, marching along with swarms of Indians on our flanks and in front. For once in a way Bolivar had adopted caution instead of the fiery recklessness he usually displayed, and seemed resolved on running no unnecessary risks.

Our course lay southward, over very rough, broken ground, and a staff officer informed Plaza we were making for the plains of Junin, to the south of Lake Reyes.

”We shall catch Canterac there,” said he, ”or Canterac will catch us; I hardly know which at present.”

Our bivouac that night was cheerless and uncomfortable. The position was a very strong one, but Bolivar was evidently determined to leave nothing to chance. The sentries were doubled and in some places trebled, so that most of us were unable to s.n.a.t.c.h more than a few hours' sleep. Early in the morning the journey was resumed, and after a tedious march of fifteen miles through mountainous country we suddenly beheld the Royalist army crossing the plains at our feet. The men, breaking into a thundering ”Viva,” waved their caps or swung their lances in the air, and the cavalry were ordered to s.h.i.+ft their saddles from the mules to the led horses.

”'Twill be a cavalry action,” said Plaza, vaulting into his saddle.

”Here comes an 'aid' with orders.”

”There goes Miller with a squadron,” cried Alzura. ”We shall be out of it. The Colombian Horse are moving too. We shall be left behind with the infantry.”

”Not so fast,” said Plaza, laughing, as Bolivar's messenger dashed up to Colonel Suares, who was in charge of our squadron. ”Now for it!”

”You won't be quite so eager presently,” growled the tough old major.

”Look at the ground; see the defile between the swamp and the hills.

Canterac can cut us to pieces there, and he's soldier enough to know it.”

”No, no, major; his cavalry aren't a patch on ours. We've never had a chance to show our mettle before.”

”Well, we shall have one now,” said the major, as we began to descend to the plain.

Two Colombian squadrons were in front of us, while Miller was still further ahead and bearing to the left. On the other side of the defile we caught a glimpse now and then of the Royalist cavalry forming up.