Part 55 (2/2)

I did not exactly see where the luck came in; but the sound of the bugle cut short my reply, and I took my place in the column. That march was the longest twelve miles I remember. Sometimes riding, sometimes walking, aching in every limb, and more than half asleep, I plodded along the rocky path, dreamily wondering at every step whether I could take another. As soon as we arrived at Challuanca I just lay down on the bare ground, and was fast asleep in a second.

It was daylight when the sounds of bugles awakened me, and I rose sleepily. The army had disappeared, with the exception of our squadron, which I afterwards found formed part of the rearguard.

”Come on, sleepy-head,” sang out Alzura, ”or you'll get no breakfast.

I've seen to your animals. A wonder they didn't kick you to death in the night!”

”The poor beasts were too tired to have a kick left in them. Where's General Sucre?”

”Going on to a place called Lambrama. Do you know Miller is a prisoner?”

”A prisoner? I don't believe it.”

”It's true, nevertheless. His scouting party has returned without him.

From what I can hear, we're in a tight fix.”

According to rumour, Alzura was right; but after a long and wearisome march we reached Lambrama, where General Sucre halted. During the afternoon, while we rested in the valley, a great shout from the troops on our right brought us to our feet, and we saw a soldier on a beautiful white horse descending a pa.s.s into the valley.

”That's General Miller's horse!” I cried excitedly.

”And the general's on its back!” said Plaza. ”Viva! viva Miller!” And the cry was taken and repeated by thousands of l.u.s.ty throats.

I had witnessed San Martin's brilliant reception, and had seen Bolivar feted by his admirers; but this outburst was the most remarkable of all. One would have thought the general was a personal friend of every man in the army.

Each battalion, as he pa.s.sed it, broke into renewed cheering, the men flung their caps into the air, and the whole scene was one of amazing enthusiasm. The general rode along slowly, and his smiling face showed how greatly he was touched by his reception.

”The man's a marvel!” exclaimed Plaza admiringly. ”Look at him! One would think he had just come from a pleasure-trip instead of being hunted through the mountains. I warrant the viceroy would count his capture cheap at half a million dollars.”

”Say a million, and it would still be cheap,” said Alzura; and most of us agreed with him.

General Miller apparently brought important information, as, shortly after his arrival, orders were issued for a fresh start. I need not dwell long upon our sufferings during that disastrous retreat. The Royalists had outmarched us, and, hoping to stop our advance, closed many of the defiles and destroyed the bridges by which we should have crossed the numerous rivers.

Several times we caught a glimpse of the enemy, and one night the hostile armies bivouacked within two miles of each other, but separated by a deep and rugged valley. The terrible march was so weakening us that many officers hoped the enemy would attack at once. But this the viceroy, who was a clever old soldier, would not do. His plan was to wear us down by degrees and only fight at an advantage.

For several days we remained watching each other, but on November 25th the Royalists disappeared, and Sucre immediately made preparations to cross the valley. A swollen river lay in our path; the bridge was destroyed, and there was no material with which to build another.

The crossing was simply terrible. The weather was intensely cold, and even at the ford the infantry were breast high in icy water. It was death to remain behind, however, and though many men, numbed and exhausted, were swept down the stream, only two lives were lost.

On the last night in November we reached a valley whose sides were clothed with enormous trees, and the order to encamp was gratefully received.

”Thank goodness!” said Alzura. ”We shall have a comfortable night at last. The trees will shelter us from the cold winds, and we shall be as cozy as in bed.”

”Humph!” said Gamarra testily; ”much you know about it. In half an hour you'll wish we had camped on the top of a mountain.”

”Why?” I asked curiously, for the valley seemed to me a very suitable camping-ground.

”Wait!” growled the crusty old major; ”you'll soon know.”

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