CHAPTER XVI

HEMMED IN ON EVERY SIDE

A small crescent of the moon rode high in a cloudless sky on that eventful night when Dudley led his little band back towards the dark forest line behind which lay the estancia that they had so recently visited; and the faint light it shed helped them not a little as they rode.

"We are fortunate," whispered Dudley to Harold, who jogged along beside him. "If it had been one of those pitch-dark nights which we have on occasion, we should have found it difficult to discover even the forest, for it is wonderful how easily one loses one's bearings on the pampas."

"Even during broad daylight," came the answer. "Why, time and again I have found myself at a loss, and have wondered which direction I ought to take. Then I have remembered the advice which Pietro gave, and soon I have got my direction from the sun. But we are lucky to-night, as you say. There is the forest, and there--yes, there is Pepito and his following."

They pulled in their horses for a minute and stared steadily ahead to where, stretching ghostly and silently across their track a mile away, lay the forest line, the belt of trees which separated them from the estancia towards which they were riding. What might not be in store for them there? What unthought-of danger might they not be about to encounter?

"I am sure, as sure as a fellow can well be, that the man who lives over there is a rascal," murmured Dudley, as if speaking his thoughts aloud. "If ever there was 'ruffian,' written upon a man's face, he had it on his; and the more I think of Mr. Blunt's tales, of the attacks with which he has had to put up, and the mystery which surrounds the brigands who have made these attacks, the more sure I am that there is something in our suspicions. There is good reason for them, and to-night we will do our best to settle the matter."

"And supposing you find evidence that this fellow is a ruffian," asked Harold thoughtfully, "will you----?"

"Attack him promptly? No, Harold, that would be doing too much. I have no orders to interfere with him, and besides I should hardly be able to obtain evidence that he or his men had actually made a raid on Mr. Blunt. No, our best plan, if our suspicions are confirmed, will be to slink away, and, once we are back home, help our employer to make other plans. Then we will set a net for the fellow, and one of these days perhaps he will fall into it. In any case we shall be warned of the danger, and after that it will be our own fault if this man is successful. Ah, there is Pepito! I can see his men distinctly. We will move on again."

Away to his right, dimly illuminated by the feeble rays of the moon, a ghostly band of riders could be seen jogging slowly on towards the forest, and a glance told Dudley that the men he saw must be part of the escort which he had brought from the estancia. He shook his reins, pressed his knees into the flanks of his horse, and set the beast in motion. Then his eyes left the silent band riding under the moonlight, and fixed themselves on the forest line ahead. And presently, as the distance decreased, he was able to make out the tops of the trees, which were moving in the breeze, and later even caught the whisper of the leaves, and the distant creak of swaying branches. Down below the summits of the trees the same dark line continued, save for a small break here and there, where the faint light from the sky filtered in between the trees.

Nothing else could be seen, and though he searched every foot of that dark line with his eyes, he discovered nothing to cause him alarm, or to warn him of the dark figures hovering in the forest. For some few feet within the shadow cast by the trees a silent band sat their horses, waiting the word of the squat individual who rode at their head.

"The fools! To think that they should play so nicely into my hands!" this leader whispered to the man at his elbow. "Here were we, sure that the knaves suspected us, about to ride out with the hope of surprising their camp. Gauchos are the same all over the pampas, and who knows, it is more than likely that their guards would have discovered us, and to take them all would have meant a long and fast gallop across the plains, a thing that neither you nor I like, _amico_."

A grunt from his companion told this leader that the man heard and assented.

"Even a gaucho may be thrown and killed when galloping at night," he answered sourly. "There was Guino, an old comrade, who broke his neck when----"

"Yes, yes, I remember," was the hasty interruption. "But to return to these fools. They have saved us all that trouble. Instead of our riding out and attempting to surprise their camp they come to us. You hear me? They ride to the forest, thereby placing their necks in the noose we have prepared, and showing me plainly that if I was suspicious of them, they also had little faith in me. Good! They shall be captured. You have placed the men?"

"They are in position, señor. They await your whistle."

"And you gave them strict orders to do as I said?"

"They understand what is wanted of them thoroughly. These men are to be captured. Our fellows would sooner kill them at once and have done with them. But you have reasons for saving their lives, and our fellows are not fools."

The man answered sourly, as if he considered his leader to be acting stupidly, and showed plainly that if the order was that this band of inquisitive gauchos and their English leaders was to be captured unharmed, he at least was not in favor of such a policy.

"I have given the order strictly," he added; "but were I in your shoes I would wring the neck of every one of the dogs."

"But you are a fool," came the short, curt answer, while the squat figure turned in the saddle and faced the man who had just spoken, the ugly leader of the band of ruffians peering into his lieutenant's face with such a malignant expression that had it been light the man would have started backward. As it was he had incurred the anger of his master more than once before, and even though the darkness hid the scowling face which was thrust within a foot of his, this ruffian cringed, and sat far back in his saddle, muttering beneath his breath. For Antonio Sarvisti had a reputation. He was the leader of a band of lawless men, and knew that such a position was no sinecure. Words meant weakness. Disobedience on the part of one of his men, if left unpunished for an instant, would lead to mutiny, and then a swift death would be the reward of the leader. No, Antonio had a short way with his following, and a hand which went quickly to his revolver. A lesson now and again was of advantage, and this ugly leader was not the man to hesitate. He was one of those ruthless savages who know how to command desperadoes. He held them at arm's length, treated them more as children, allowed them to quarrel and fight as much as they liked amongst themselves, and, like the astute ruffian he was, whenever they showed signs of discontent he at once organized a raid with which to distract their attention, for he well knew that the mere thought of the booty which they would gather would sweeten their tempers. But whatever happened, strict obedience to his mere nod was a point on which he insisted, and the smallest breach meant always the crack of a pistol and a bullet in the head of the one who had misbehaved. Even the surly individual who acted as Antonio's lieutenant was never free from the haunting fear that he too might fall a victim to his leader, and it was seldom that he presumed upon his position. At this very moment he sat back in his saddle, staring fearfully at the squat figure of the Italian, while one hand instinctively slid towards the pocket which held his revolver.

"You heard," came the sharp question from Antonio. "I said you were a fool, and now I think you a bigger one, for your hand is near your revolver, while, if you will only look, my weapon is within an inch of your face. There, feel it!"

The cold ring of steel touched the gaucho's forehead, sending a shiver through his frame and causing him to start back. Beads of perspiration burst out on his face, while his hands trembled. For this Antonio was marvellous.

"Preserve us!" he murmured with quivering lips. "The man sees like a cat. Señor, I am at your mercy."

"As you will always be," was the answer, given this time in softer tones. "Antonio Sarvisti is not the man to be played with, and if he makes one of his band a lieutenant, with higher wages and a bigger share of the booty--a bigger share, mind you, _amico_,--he expects greater obedience from that man. But there; we will not quarrel, you and I. Thank the fates that you are not in my shoes, and learn to understand that I have always a reason for every action. I could have shot you like a dog a moment ago, but then I should have alarmed the fools who are riding into our net. A reason, you see, amico. Then you will gather that I have something in my mind which causes me to order that these men shall be unharmed. Listen! If they are shot down and killed, and if afterwards I am successful in slaying my enemy in the estancia over there, the deaths of so many gauchos will arouse a cry throughout the pampas. The owners are already attempting to combine. They would gather their forces at once, and it is likely that information would reach them that it was on this estancia that the trouble had commenced, for one of these men might escape. Now, do you see my meaning? You would raise a hornet's nest about us. Secure these gauchos, kill this Mr. Blunt, and I warrant that within a month our captives will take service with us. There, silence now! The fools are getting near."

Dudley and his men were indeed within a short distance of the forest line by now, and it looked as if they would ride right into the trap which had been set for them without taking any precautions. But, suddenly, as the rascals within stared out from the shadows, they saw our hero lift his arm above his head and bring the band to a standstill. Almost at the same instant a shrill whistle sounded away on the right, a signal which all knew came from Pepito.

"Something wrong, I think," said Dudley to Harold, who rode up to his elbow. "I called a halt here as I could see no easy way into the forest. Everything looks so black ahead that I thought it wise to send a man to search for an opening. And now Pepito gives a whistle. What can be the reason?"

They sat their horses there, uncertain how to act, and never dreamed that within a few yards of them, hidden beneath the dense shadow and the foliage, Antonio Sarvisti and his men lurked unseen. Not a whisper reached their ears, though a minute later one of the gauchos spurred his horse to our hero's side and warned him that he had heard movements in the forest.

"There are men there, señor," he said in low and warning tones. "I heard them as they moved. This owner whom we have come to watch is there with his following, and we are in danger of attack. There! That was a horseman. I heard the hoofs of the beast moving over the fallen leaves."

"And here is Pepito," said Dudley suddenly, catching sight of a band of horsemen riding towards him across the pampas. "You say you heard men moving. Perhaps Pepito has heard the same, and in that case there will be nothing left for us but to retreat as fast as possible. Give a whistle, my man."

An answering signal was sent, and very soon, spurring hard and galloping as fast as possible, Pepito and his men arrived on the scene.

"Your pardon, señor," he said, as he pulled his panting horse in within a foot of Dudley. "We were about to enter the forest through a gap, when sounds came to our ears. It may have been the wind, though I think myself that it was caused by horsemen. After that I did not venture to enter, but signalled so that you would be warned."

"We have found the same here. One of the gauchos declares that he heard horsemen moving over the fallen leaves, Pepito. If that is the case these men are watching us, and are prepared to attack us. I think we had better ride away on to the pampas, and make direct for the estancia."

"The señor is right," came the prompt answer. "It would be madness to enter now. Better collect in a ring and gallop away at our fastest pace. If men are there they will surely fire at us the instant we move away, and if we went slowly we should be killed."

"While if we ride in a bunch we shall as certainly make an excellent mark for their bullets," exclaimed Dudley, at a loss how to act, for he had never anticipated such evil fortune as to be discovered in the very first stage of his enterprise. Even now he could hardly believe that the actions of his little band had been watched, and that men were within the forest, ready to pounce upon his following when they entered. Nor did he even dream that Antonio Sarvisti, the evil-faced owner of the neighboring estancia, had already laid his plans to capture the whole party, and afterwards to fall upon Mr. Blunt and the remaining gauchos, and do his best to kill the former and wreck his estancia.

"We will gallop away now," Dudley said, after a moment's thought, "and as we ride we will separate. Pass those orders. Are all ready?"

He waited for a few seconds, so as to make sure that all understood, and was on the point of giving the signal for the retirement of the whole party, when suddenly a voice was heard from the forest, a voice the tones of which he and Harold instantly recognized.

"Ride if you will, señor, and be shot down by my men. But if you will take your orders from me you will at once throw down your arms and dismount, for I have sixty men here, and each one has a rifle trained on you. Dismount, señor, instantly!"

The words came like blows, so unexpected were they. In a flash Dudley saw himself and his men prisoners, and the task which he had set himself, and from which he had hoped for so much, turned into a terrible disaster. In a second he realized that all his suspicions of this Antonio Sarvisti were more than well founded, and that the capture of his little band would leave Mr. Blunt and his estancia open to instant attack. The forest was before him, black and forbidding, and sheltering beneath its deep shadow the ruffian whose movements he had returned to watch, while behind lay the moonlit pampas, and freedom if he could but escape. Then he thought of the rifles, which no doubt covered every member of his band, and realized that a movement of the horses would mean death for many of his men. Surrender alone seemed to be left, and then----

"Pepito," he whispered, "there is only one course. Will the men support me?"

"Try them, señor," came the crisp answer.

"Then let them dismount as if about to surrender. The instant they are off their horses they are to lie full length and wriggle forward into the forest. We will fight these fine fellows in their own cover."

"Well, the señor has thought it out?" came the jeering question from the forest. "He is about to surrender. That is well. Dismount and no harm shall come to you."

Without troubling to reply, Dudley flung his leg across the pommel of his saddle and slipped to the ground, each one of the party following his example. Then, in less time than it takes to tell, all were on their faces and creeping rapidly towards the cover.

"Treachery! Fire on them!" shouted Antonio, suddenly realizing that a trick was being played. "Call the flanks out into the open and let them surround these men as was arranged. Fire on them, or they will give us trouble."

The squat figure of the rascal showed up for one instant, as a gleaming ray from the moon penetrated through a break in the trees and fell upon him, then he, too, slid to the ground, and in a flash was hidden from view. A second later a volley spurted from the dense cover in front, the bullets ripping the leaves and hurtling out over the pampas. Then there came a solitary shot. Crash! A rifle, fired from a point some six yards away, suddenly lit up the dense darkness of the forest, while a ball whizzed over Dudley's head and thudded against the flanks of one of the horses. The poor beast rose high in the air and stood there poised on his hind legs; then he lost his balance and tumbled backwards with a crash. But he was up in an instant, and began to lash out in all directions, kicking the other horses till all were in a condition of terror.

Crash! Another shot startled the silence, and then came a cry, the sharp call of a man who has been wounded. It was Pepito, who lay just beside Dudley, and at that moment was creeping into the shadow of a bush on the very edge of the forest. But he was not the lad to make a fuss because a bullet had ripped a hole through the muscles of one of his thighs. One sharp cry of pain he gave, and then, setting his lips, and fixing his eyes on the spot from which the shot had come, he raced forward, bending low all the while and gripping his hunting knife in his hand.

"One to us, I think!" he heard someone exclaim in low tones. "Now for number two."

The gaucho's keen eyes could even penetrate the darkness of the forest, and as he sat on his heels, waiting for the man who had fired to show himself, he saw a barrel pushed through the fork of a trunk within three feet of where he sat. A white blotch behind showed where the man's face was, and gave Pepito all the information he required. With one bound he reached the tree and threw the muzzle of the weapon up just as the man pulled the trigger. Then, ere the flash had died down, he had reached behind the trunk, had dragged the ruffian who had fired closer to him, and with one stroke of his knife had sent him to his end.

"So let all robbers die," he murmured, as he stooped over the man. "We will speak to the others in the same way."

Assuring himself that the man was dead, he fell on all fours again, and crept back towards Dudley, narrowly missing a shot which one of his own gauchos fired at him as he came.

"A blow for a blow, señor," he said. "The ruffian hit me through the thigh and has been punished. The others have gone, I think, for they know well that here in the forest we are equal to them."

"Then get the men together and set a watch all round," was the sharp order. "After that we will place two men to cover the horses with their rifles, for it would never do to have them captured."

"And then, señor?"

"We will wait. There is nothing more that we can do, for if we attempt to move through the forest we shall certainly be attacked. Those fellows have a clever leader, who saw at once that in the darkness of this place we had as much chance as he and his men. But you may be sure that the rascals are all round us, ready to fire a volley into us the instant we move or rise to our feet. As to how long we shall wait I do not know; but if only the moon would go down our course would be open. We should rush to the horses and ride for our lives."

The predicament in which Dudley and his following found themselves was indeed by no means a pleasant one. It is true that they had escaped capture for the moment, but it was very doubtful if they were any the better off for that; for retreat across the pampas meant disaster, and the volley which had greeted them as they threw themselves on to the ground had told them plainly that they had an overwhelming number to deal with. The wonder was, in fact, that one only of their party had been wounded, and that the bullets had whistled over the heads of the others. A minute later the aspect of affairs was seen to be even worse, for no sooner had Pepito placed his guards on every side than he himself went to look at the horses, creeping like a snake through the forest as he made for the edge, for to have stood up would have meant to invite a bullet.

"Gone!" he exclaimed, with an exclamation of dismay, as he stared into the open. "Those robbers have been too quick for us. We are cornered, and can never escape."

He crept back to Dudley's side with his tale, and there for some few minutes lay at full length, whispering to him.

"Gone, señor," he said with a groan, "as if they had vanished into the night. There is no trace of them, though I looked to right and left. The rascals must have driven them into the cover. We are cornered. Escape is out of the question."

"Never say die!" answered Dudley stubbornly. "Things look nasty, I admit, but we are not taken yet. But there is something else which is worrying me. Listen, Pepito! We must send a warning to Mr. Blunt, for I can see the game which this fellow and his men are playing. We thought to take them unawares, and to find out all about them; while they must have seen that we suspected them. More than that, once they had heard from us of the intended combination of the owners of the estancias, they saw that instant action on their part was necessary, or we should soon be too strong for them. Our faces must have told them what we thought, and have warned them of the report we should give to Mr. Blunt. The rest is clear."

"Clear, señor. I do not understand," answered Pepito.

"Then I will tell you. The rascals decided to attack us at once and capture every one of our band. Then that report would never reach our estancia; while, instead of our arriving, this Italian--for that I think he is--would raid the place with his ruffians, and as likely as not kill our employer and those who attempted to defend him."

An exclamation burst from the gaucho spread full length at his side. "Then that explains their presence here, señor," he said. "They followed us, and were waiting in the forest to ride out and surround our camp. And we, thinking to watch their movements, raised the camp, and rode back here into their arms. Bah! It makes one's blood boil to think that we have had such evil luck. But you were saying, señor, that you had some trouble."

"I have," replied Dudley decidedly. "We have others to think of. There is Mr. Blunt; he must be warned. Someone must creep away from here and make for the estancia. I would go myself, but I am in command, and stand or fall with my men."

"Then I will go," came the prompt answer, while Pepito sprang eagerly to his feet, only to fall again the next moment; for now that the contest had slackened and active movement had not been necessary for some few minutes, the fact that he had been wounded was borne in on his mind. He had felt the stinging blow given by the bullet, and had at once determined on revenge, for this handsome and gallant gaucho had the hot blood of Spain in his veins, and to him a blow received demanded an instant return. But punishment had been given, the enemy had for the moment been forced to retire, and now the pain of his wound returned. The injury was not a very serious one, but sufficient to make the limb stiff and movement painful. It was clear at once that the task of reaching the estancia was, for him at least, an impossible one.

"More evil luck!" he groaned. "This wound would tire me before I had gone many miles, even on a horse. The task falls to some other man. If the señor will permit I will choose one who is crafty and brave."

A minute later, indeed, he had called one of his gauchos to his side, where he repeated the orders which his young leader gave.

"You will creep out into the forest and search for a horse, _amigo_," he said. "Take your pistol and knife only, and strike hard if you should meet one of the robbers. When you are through, ride for your life and warn them at the estancia. Let them gather the other owners and the gauchos and bring them, back here at the gallop. There, go. You are brave."

The man, a young fellow of Pepito's own age, merely grunted his assent, gripped Dudley and his comrade by the hand, and at once crept off into the cover like a snake. Behind him he left the remainder of the little band, crouched low amid the trees and brambles, listening, listening eagerly for a sound. Once they heard a sharp crack, the sound made by a man who has trodden on a dried stick, and a second later a low thud, a gurgling cry, and then a second's silence. But the stillness of the forest did not last for long, for once more the voice of the leader of the band of rascals was heard.

"Fire!" he shouted. "They are trying to move through the forest. Give them a volley."

Hardly had the words died down when from every point, from right and left, and from the pampas even, spurts of flame lit up the darkness, while bullets ripped through the leaves, sending a shower to the ground, ricochetting from the trunks of the trees, and singing through the air in a manner sufficient to awe the boldest. Some two minutes later the gallant gaucho who had made the attempt to slip through the hands of the surrounding enemy crawled to Dudley's side again.

"Alas, señor," he whispered, "the net is drawn too closely even for a snake to escape. By an evil chance I happened to tread on a dried stick, and in an instant one of the ruffians was upon me. He died, señor. My blade found a spot between his shoulders, and he dropped without a word. There were others near him, and for that reason, seeing it was impossible to advance, I returned to warn you. We are surrounded."

The news was only too true. Dudley and his men were now hemmed in on every side. Enemies surrounded them so closely that, as the gaucho had said, even a snake stood little chance of being able to crawl through. Their horses were captured, their retreat cut off, and the least that could be said of their position was that it was desperate. Surrender, a miserable ending to all their hopes and ambitions, stared them in the face, and, worse than all, perhaps--a fact which recurred time and again to Dudley,--the capture of his little party meant more even than imprisonment. He could see the matter very clearly now, and realized that once he and his men were caged there was nothing to prevent this rascal Sarvisti from riding down on the lands owned by Mr. Blunt and utterly annihilating all who lived there. As if in a dream he saw the comfortable house on the estancia in flames, and on the threshold the body of Mr. Blunt, done to death by this enemy who had so often and in so many ways attempted to kill him.

"It shall never be," he said aloud, clenching his fists. "While I live I swear that I will stop this ruffian. I will never surrender!"