On Foreign Service; Or, The Santa Cruz RevolutionJeans, T. T. (Thomas Tendron)
General
On Foreign Service; Or, The Santa Cruz Revolution
Jeans, T. T. (Thomas Tendron)
Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Fiction; Seafaring life -- Fiction; South America -- Fiction
First of all, for that bungalow wall, I thought, and, almost before I
knew what I was doing, I found myself dashing across the stream, and
looking over it to see if it would be any use to make the little chaps
fire over it. But for the giant palms and ferns, in the garden, I could
see right along the road, and fellows behind it could easily sweep the
road with rifle-fire. I called José, and he came, then the ’Gnome’ came,
stood on tip-toe, looked over, and knew exactly what I meant. I seized
a _machete_, jumped over the wall, and began lopping down the palms, and
in a minute he’d sent thirty or forty chaps to help me, and began
bringing riflemen over to line the wall—he made some climb on the roof
of the bungalow, too, where they could get even a better field of fire.
Now for those wagons, I thought, and began trotting down the road
towards the Casino, hoping that the others would come along as well, but
only José panted after me, singing out ’No, no!’
’_No, Señor, no!_’ the Gnome shouted, but I wasn’t going back, for
another idea came to me. How about the top of the Casino itself?
I got up to the Casino, dashed in, and ran upstairs—I knew that there
must be a way to the roof, as there were railings all round it, and it
was flat. I found a staircase leading up there, and was on top in a
jiffy, José following me and pulling me down to my knees, because,
directly my head had shown above the railings, there were yells from the
edge of the forest, and bullets came splattering against the house. I
wriggled myself to the edge and looked down, really only wanting to see
whether it commanded the road properly, but—my eye!—beyond that corner,
three hundred yards further along, collecting there, as far back as I
could see, were hundreds of cavalry, and the woods were thick with
infantry.
I beckoned to José, and he crawled across and looked too; his face got
almost white when he saw what I had seen.
I heard the people at the ford opening fire. ’_Señor! Señor!_’ José
cried, and pointed down into the road at our feet, and I saw there,
right below us, twenty or thirty regulars streaming across the road from
the forest to the front of the Casino—the leading ones were already
springing up the steps.
We were down off that roof like redshanks, and as we got down to the
first floor we heard them clambering up the main staircase. We raced
down the corridor and saw the first of them. They saw us and yelled. I
fired my revolver in their faces and dashed into a back bedroom, José
slamming the door behind us. I knew there was a verandah outside, and
we jumped out, swarmed down a supporting pillar—like monkeys—and swung
off back along the beach, the soldiers firing at us from the verandah
we’d just left. I split one of the knees of my riding breeches, I ran so
fast.
I didn’t run so fast entirely on account of those bullets, but because I
wanted to let the ’Gnome’ know what I had seen round that corner. José
told him, pointing up the road.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account