Colonel Oton Eugenio Alarcon de Reuda had one advantage over the officers under his command. While a wealthy haciendero, with a vast estate in Arizona, he had been a regular soldier for ten years in his youth. So he had felt that he was eminently qualified to make the most of the information which he had received from Madeline de Moreau.
Nor, on listening to the reports of his advance scouts, had the colonel been told anything to make him believe his summation of the situation was other than correct. Although he had had hardly any contact with the gringo rebels, few of whom had traveled so far west as his home, the stories he had heard of their traits and conduct had not left him with a high regard for their skill as fighting soldiers. Those who were guarding the consignment of arms might have taken a few precautions and they might know that the Arizona Hopi Activos Regiment were coming, but he still saw no cause for alarm.
Advancing with care and pondering upon how much better the terrain of East Texas was adapted to such tactics—although the cold and damp weather was less pleasant—than most of the land in Arizona, Alarcon studied the state of the enemies’ defenses. They were obviously aware that his regiment was in the vicinity and were positioned to fight back. However, he felt sure that he could exploit their weakness. It stemmed from the climatic conditions’ effect upon their weapons. It was something which would not have such repercussions upon his men. Few, apart from the Mexican officers, had firearms. Even the latter, appreciating the serious fault which inflicted such weapons under the circumstances, would be placing their reliance upon swords or sabers. Nor would the lack of discipline which his military colleagues had declared was a characteristic of the gringo rebels make them as effective as might otherwise have been the case.
Looking through his telescope at the figures assembled in the rifle pits, the colonel made a rough estimate of their numbers. Then he picked out their officers from the descriptions he had been given by the woman who had been brought to him by Major Abrahan Phillipe Gonzales de Villena y Danvila. The tall, slim one with the face like el Diablo and the burly redhead would be the primary targets for his men, but he decided that the gringo in the well cut civilian clothing and the small, yellow-skinned foreigner holding a bow and arrows must also be regarded as of an equal priority. Possibly the red-haired girl standing alongside the civilian could be considered in a similar fashion, for Madeline de Moreau had warned that she was as dangerous as any of her male companions. While the colonel was inclined to doubt the statement, he saw no reason to take chances. Nor did he want a female prisoner, who might cause dissension among his soldiers. Whether she was taken alive or not, the four men he had selected must die as quickly as possible. Killing the leaders had always been sound strategy. With them gone, their subordinates would have no guidance and be that much easier meat.
Satisfied with his examination, Alarcon closed the telescope and glanced at the Hopi Indian who had brought him to the point of observation. They withdrew with a care equal to that displayed as they moved in and he was confident that they had come and gone without the Texians being aware of their visit. Collecting their horses, they rode back to where the rest of the regiment was waiting. He was confident of success and pleased with the thought of the acclaim which would be forthcoming in its wake.
Not that the colonel underestimated the fighting qualities of individual gringos, having heard of what had happened in San Antonio de Bexar the previous year. Of course, the Texians who were involved then had been more numerous and commanded by older, more experienced leaders. However, the rebels had also appeared to have scored a number of minor victories in skirmishes during the early days of the rebellion. What was more, although they were withdrawing from the west, he could understand and even approve of Major General Samuel Houston’s reluctance to meet a larger army in an open confrontation unless on favorable terms.
For all that, unlike their fellow rebels in the earlier victories—who were fighting hit-and-run on the offensive—the men he had been studying were outnumbered and acting in a defensive capacity. Alarcon felt sure that the rank and file of the company would appreciate that their inexperienced commanding officer had not even left them with the means for rapid flight if their position should prove untenable. There had been no sign of their horses, which therefore could not be closer than fifty yards away and below the rim overlooking Santa Cristobal Bay. The officer might even have arranged it that way, as the colonel knew he personally would in similar circumstances, to ensure that the men stood their ground to the bitter end.
“Very well, gentlemen—and you, Señora de Moreau,” Alarcon announced, looking at the three majors and nine lieutenants who were gathered about the woman. His gaze went next to the leaders of the Hopi Indians who were serving as non-commissioned officers over the rest of the braves. “All is as Chief Jesus lv told us. We can follow the kind of action which I outlined when I heard our first scouts’ reports.”
There was a brief rumble of interest and delight at the colonel’s news. The commanding officers of the three companies who were present had approved of the tentative plan which he had made, provided that it should be workable. Nor could the Hopi war leaders, who were practical and experienced tacticians, find fault with the reasoning behind it. However, none of the lieutenants gave the tactics a great deal of thought. Each was more interested in the prospect of going into action, with the attendant possibility of outdoing the others and winning Madeline de Moreau’s approbation.
The one person who might have shown the main flaws in the scheme failed to do so.
Having been admitted into the councils of war which were caused by her arrival and news, although noticing that she had been kept under observation at all times, the woman had approved of all she had heard. She had warned that the Mexicans should not take the Texians’ leader too lightly, without being too determined in stressing just how competent he had proved to be. While the regiment consisted of ten fifty-strong companies, a useful system in that it allowed a greater number of promotions, seven had been left three days’ ride to the south. So she had not wished to have her revenge delayed while reinforcements could be summoned because Alarcon decided the enemy was too dangerous for his force to handle.
“You were correct about the mule train having been brought here, señora,” the colonel went on, causing the junior officers to scatter like flies frightened from a pool of honey. “Or at least, the number of men in the rifle pits indicates that it is.”
On telling how her ambush had failed, laying all the blame on her now scattered or dead associates, Madeline had warned that there was a possibility that the two sections of the enemies’ party were reunited. Although she had not lingered in the vicinity of San Phillipe, she had felt sure that the bell-mare had been replaced. In which case, she could count upon Ole Devil Hardin and Diamond-Hitch Brindley to waste no time in putting the new animal to use. For all that, it rankled to learn that the young couple had once again proved to be so capable and efficient. However, the woman found some consolation in considering that both of them would be at Santa Cristobal Bay, and the full strength of Company “C” of the Texas Light Cavalry and the Brindleys’ Tejas mule packers were less than half the number of the Arizona Hopi Activos Regiment.
“That will save us going looking for them,” Villena called out and the other officers mumbled their agreement.
“The time has come for us to ride, gentlemen,” Alarcon stated. “But I don’t need to warn any of you to use cold steel and not to fall into their error.”
“May I accompany you. Colonel?” Madeline inquired.
“It won’t be any place for a lady, señora,” Alarcon pointed out.
“Nor do I expect it to be,” the woman declared and her emotions turned her face ugly. “But they murdered my husband and I have a score to settle with them.”
For a few seconds, Alarcon did not offer to reply. While he had read the woman’s identification pass, he was not familiar with Presidente Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna’s signature. So he could not tell whether the document was genuine or not. However, he was aware of what his fate would be if it should be authentic and he had not honored it. Nor would his future career be improved if he allowed a friend of el Presidente to be harmed.
“Very well, señora,” the colonel finally said. “You may come. But it must be on the understanding that you do so at your own risk and knowing there will be a very great element of danger.”
“That is fully understood and accepted, Colonel,” Madeline replied, her hatred for the girl and the Texian driving out any thought of the perils she would be facing. She nodded to the listening officers, going on, “These gentlemen are witnesses that I insisted upon going and that no blame shall attach itself to you in the event of my being killed or injured.”
“My thanks, señora, and well said,” Alarcon answered, but decided that precautions might still be in order. “I must only ask that you stay close to me—”
“Perhaps you’d be good enough to put me under Major Villena y Danvila’s care, señor,” the woman suggested, guessing that—having captured the leader of the Texians and allowing him to escape—the officer in question would be the best choice for her purpose. He would want to remove the stain on his reputation by killing Ole Devil Hardin and would put her in the best position to achieve the same end. “If he doesn’t object, that is.”
“It will be my privilege, señora,” Villena stated. “Very well,” the colonel authorized, realizing that the major could be made to bear the brunt of the recriminations if anything should befall the female renegade. “I trust you will take no unnecessary chances, señora?”
“I’ve no wish to be killed. Colonel,” Madeline replied.
On rejoining their men, the officers removed the outer clothing which they had donned to combat the inclement weather. Although travel-stained, their uniforms looked martial and impressive; particularly when compared with the way the men under their command were dressed.
Wanting a greater freedom of movement, Madeline peeled off her cloak-coat. Taking the “Pepperbox” from the pocket, she tucked its barrel into her waistband. Then she handed the heavy outer garment to one of the small party of mozos who were waiting to take care of the officers’ property. Having done so, she joined Villena and his lieutenants.
With his force mounted, Alarcon gave the order to advance. Following his plan, each company formed into three ranks. The youngest braves and the lieutenants were in front, with the older warriors and senior officers bringing up the rear. Nor had either the junior officers nor the Hopis seen anything unusual in the formation. To the Indians’ way of thinking, such an arrangement was not only logical but honorable lvi and such of the lieutenants as bothered to give it any consideration accepted that it was being done to satisfy the preferences of the men under their command.
Madeline de Moreau was not alone in feeling that such an arrangement had merit. Seeing the advantages, the colonel and the three majors had been only too happy to go along with the Hopis’ tradition. It gave them a greater chance of survival and the woman saw it in the same light.
Although the colonel and Chief Jesus had contrived to reach a point of vantage from which they could study the enemy without being detected, they had realized that there was no chance of such a large body of men meeting with equal success. Nor did he mean for them to waste time trying. Instead, they were heading straight for their objective. Once the Texians saw them coming, he would be able to find out if a very important aspect of his strategy was correct. He hoped that it would be, for he had used it as a major argument when the dangers of a frontal attack upon what would probably be prepared positions had been raised.
Before the Hopis were within a hundred yards of the strip of almost open land, the defenders had seen them. Finding themselves located, the front rank let out whoops and urged their horses forward at an increased pace.
Looking between the men ahead of him, Alarcon gave a sigh of relief. Just as he had anticipated, instead of waiting to deliver volley firing when the Indians reached the fringe of the sheltered terrain—which would have proved advantageous to him, provided the other factor happened—first one and then many of the other men in the pits began to open fire.
Or tried to!
Only a few of the rifles spoke!
The remainder proved to be suffering from a terribly dangerous fault of the flintlock mechanism under such climatic conditions! lvii Having been affected by the damp air, the powder in the priming pans was failing to ignite and set off the main charges in the barrels.
Seeing that their colonel’s prediction was justified even the more cautious of the older braves cast aside their doubts. When rifle after rifle misfired, they added their war whoops to those of the leading ranks and signaled for their mounts to go faster.
Dashing through the bushes and other cover, the three companies were prepared to launch a determined and, what they felt sure would be, an unstoppable charge. With the way the Texians’ weapons were failing to function, they could have done little to save themselves even if they had been sufficiently well disciplined to wait and deliver a volley.
Or so thought the attacking force.
Although the attackers did not realize it, they were being lured into a trap!
Ole Devil Hardin had been counting upon the Red River Volunteer Dragoons contingent’s lack of discipline to help him spring it. That was why he had selected them to occupy the rifle pits. For the success of his scheme, he needed men upon whom he could rely implicitly below the rim and concealed from the enemies’ view.
However, while guessing that any attempt at volley firing would be doomed to failure where the Dragoons were concerned, Ole Devil had given one command to them. Only a few owned percussion-fired weapons and he had insisted that they employed their personal arms before bringing the Caplocks he had lent to them into action. He had also threatened to shoot any man who attempted to touch the new rifles before he gave permission. It said much for the respect, or fear, which he inspired among them that not one had offered to go against his orders even after their pieces failed to function.
Knowing what was at stake, Di, Mannen, Tommy Okasi, Rassendyll and Joe Galton had not fired so much as a shot between them. While the discovery of a rifle which could keep on pumping out lead without apparently needing to be reloaded might have had a salutary effect upon the Indians, lviii from the defenders’ point of view, Mannen doubted whether any of them would notice it in the excitement and confusion of the mass charge. So he was saving the five bullets until they could be put to a more useful purpose. Nor was the little Oriental using his bow, preferring to economize where the arrows were concerned.
Reaching the open ground, the Hopis and their Mexican officers made an awesome sight. Brandishing lances, throwing sticks, bows and arrows, or in the lieutenants’ cases, some kind of a sword, they swept onward.
“Now!” Ole Devil roared, swinging the butt of his Browning Slide Repeating rifle to his shoulder. “Give them the Caplocks. Dragoons!”
Eagerly and with great relief, the enlisted men in the pits discarded their own arms to snatch up the first of their reserve rifles. Every one of them hoped that the Caplocks would prove more effective than the weapons which had failed to function.
However, the sight of the Dragoons changing rifles was not the attackers’ main source of consternation. To their amazement, many more gringos began to appear over what the majority of the Mexicans and Indians had assumed to be the edge of the cliff. Each of the newcomers was holding a rifle ready for use and had a second, with a bayonet attached, suspended by an improvised sling across his back.
Shock and alarm burst through Alarcon as he realized that he had been tricked into greatly underestimating the number of the enemy. There was, however, no time for him to wonder if his informant had been a party to the deception. lix Other matters of more immediate importance were demanding his undivided attention, particularly the way in which the newcomers were behaving. From all appearances, they were far better disciplined than the occupants of the pits. Although they might not be acting with the puppet like precision of some of the crack European regiments he had heard and read about, they advanced from the rim and, halting in a fairly straight line, lifted their rifles to the aiming position so nearly simultaneously as to be impressive—
And, but for the lethal fault of the flintlock mechanism, frightening.
Alarcon and his men doubted whether more than a fraction of the weapons being pointed at them would perform in a more satisfactory manner than those of their previous assailants.
“Fire!” bellowed Major Ludwig von Lowenbrau, having been assigned to perform the duty as he could see when the men from below the rim were ready whereas Ole Devil could not without looking away from the enemy.
Over sixty rifles roared and Tommy Okasi’s long bow twanged in a ragged, but adequately concentrated volley. It was followed by the shots from those of the Dragoons who had been less speedy in exchanging weapons.
Already halfway across the open strip, the tightly packed ranks of the Arizona Hopi Activos Regiment’s three companies were ideally positioned to be caught by the holocaust, and they suffered grievously. Horses and men went down like wheat before a mower’s scythe.
Being in the forefront of the attackers, not one of the Mexican lieutenants survived the onslaught. Their colonel had not been alone in appreciating the tactical and moral value of removing officers and the Texians had acted accordingly. What was more, practically every member of the front rank felt the effects of the volley. Although they bore the brunt of the casualties, some of the bullets found billets in the men who were following them after having passed between—or through—their bodies. In fact, those who were behind horses which were struck down might have counted themselves fortunate. At something around a hundred yards, the lead could not pass through the length of the animal’s body and emerge to fly on with sufficient velocity to claim a second victim.
Just how well Ole Devil had laid his plans was shown by the success which his party had attained. With the single, well-delivered volley, the assault by the much larger force had been disrupted and brought to a halt. What was more, the effect went even further than he had anticipated. He had not suspected that the Mexican colonel would have counted upon his men being armed with flintlocks and that these would misfire in the damp air.
Nor were the Texians finished!
Without waiting for or needing orders, the members of Company “C” dropped the empty rifles and began to liberate the second weapons from across their backs. The Dragoons were also making the necessary adjustments to allow them to continue the bombardment. While they were doing so, Ole Devil, Mannen and Tommy made use of the Brownings’ and the bow’s capabilities for rapid reloading and sought to select the best targets among the mill of rearing, swerving, hopelessly entangled and confused riders.
Ole Devil toppled one of the majors. A brave passing between them saved Alarcon’s life by intercepting the bullet which Mannen had thrown at him. However, Chief Jesus was less fortunate. Having contrived to keep some kind of control over his war pony, he emerged through the scattered dead or wounded animals and men to try and rally the rest. Before he could do so, he was transfixed by the little Oriental’s arrow and joined many of his braves on the ground.
To give the Hopis their due, while realizing that their war medicine—the belief in which no amount of Christian mission indoctrination succeeded in wiping out—had failed, some of them tried to fight back.
Before the Texians could fire a second time, a throwing stick lx spun through the air and struck von Lowenbrau’s head and he went down.
Holding her second rifle cocked and ready, Di was scanning the confused mass before her in the hope of locating Madeline de Moreau when she heard a cry of pain from alongside her.
Having emptied both his rifles, Rassendyll had set down the second where it would be readily available if he required the bayonet that was attached to it and was reaching for the Croodlom & Co. “Duck Foot” Mob Pistol which was laying close by. Before his fingers could grasp the butt, an arrow struck him in the shoulder. He could not restrain his agonized exclamation. Grabbing ineffectually at the shaft which was protruding from his flesh, he spun around to stumble against the rear of the pit.
Two of the Dragoons and four members of Company “C” were also struck by the Hopis’ missiles, while others had narrow escapes as arrows or throwing sticks whizzed by them. However, such reprisals—only one member of each party received a fatal injury—were nothing compared to the slaughter which had been dealt out already—
And that which was about to be inflicted!
Less than twenty seconds after the supercargo had been wounded, although too late to prevent it from happening, Sergeant Dale gave the order and Company “C” turned loose their second fusillade. Nor had the slight delay while the non-com had waited—being unaware that von Lowenbrau was indisposed—reduced its effectiveness. In fact, it proved to be just as devastating and even more potent than its predecessor.
Once again, the deadly tempest of lead assailed the Hopis. Any who had managed to evade the confusion and were trying to continue the attack were selected as targets. The others were hit, or missed, by random shooting as the fates directed. Many fell, including the second major who had come to the fore and was heading toward the rifle pits.
However, Madeline and Villena survived both of the volleys. Being cautious and knowing that his uniform made him an easily distinguishable target, the major had contrived to keep as many bodies as possible between himself and the enemy. He did not wish to let his former captive or the strange little foreigner pick him out for revenge. On her part, the woman was aware that Di Brindley would not hesitate to kill her. So she had allowed the men to draw ahead and had followed ready to grab any opportunity which was presented, or let them take care of the objects of her hatred.
While the Hopis were far from being cowards, there was a limit to how much punishment they were willing to take when there seemed little hope of returning it. What was more, a number of the leaders had fallen and the rest saw no reason to throw their lives away. So they turned and fled, scattering in every direction save toward their assailants.
Seeing what was happening, the woman and Villena followed the Hopis’ example. They went independently, neither giving even a thought to the other or to the men whom each had helped send to their deaths.
At the sight of Madeline dashing away, Di threw a shot after her and missed. Growling a curse, the girl dropped her empty weapon and looked at Rassendyll. Experienced in such matters, she knew that the wound was not desperately dangerous.
“I’ll send the doc to you. Beau!” Di promised, grabbing up the mob pistol. “And I’ll borrow this seeing’s you’ll not be needing it.”
With that, the girl bounded up the rear slope of the pit, which had been dug at such an angle as to facilitate a rapid departure. Already the men of Company “C” were charging forward to use their bayonets and deal with the unhorsed, but uninjured Hopis. So she knew that she was not leaving the supercargo defenseless while she pursued the urgent matter demanding her attention.
The Tejas left to look after the mules and, if need be, to destroy the consignment by blowing it up. However, half a dozen of them stood just below the rim holding several saddled horses. One was Ewart Brindley’s big grulla lxi gelding, selected by the girl as her own mount was tired from the strenuous activity of the previous few days. Running to it, she used her empty hand to grab the reins from the young brave. Swinging astride the saddle, she set the spirited animal into motion and went like a bat out of hell in the direction from which she had come.