Part 56 (1/2)
”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_!”