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1855.]

horse falling with him, had been car-
ried to Perote, and had sent him to
replace him until such time as he
should be able to overtake the con-
voy. The chief muleteer, who had
but just the number of men he want-
ed, accepted the services of the new-
comer, a stout active fellow, whose
sinister expression of countenance at
once set M. Bellamare against him.
The next day's march seemed more
wearisome than usual, since Victori-
ano was no longer there to enliven it
with his guitar and his stories. The
halting-place was to be La Hoya, five
leagues from Cruz Blanca. They had
marched but a league when a mule
cast a shoe. A little farther on the
same thing happened to another, and
then again to a third. Victoriano's
substitute shod them with great dex-
terity, but much time was neverthe-
less lost. The chief muleteer swore
hideously; M. Bellamare's suspicions
of the farrier increased, and he asked
Captain Blas if it were not possible
that the knave who shod the mules so
expertly might have had something
to do with unshoeing them. The cap-
tain laughed at his suspicions, and
the convoy moved on-languidly,
however, for the mules seemed to
have lost their usual vigour, as if,
thought M. Bellamare, some enervat-
ing drug had been administered to
them. At last they reached the
mountain village of Las Vigas, on ap-
proaching which they experienced the
sudden transition frequent in Mexico,
and that Sealsfield has so admirably
described, from the hot to the cold
regions. The warm breeze was no
longer felt, chilly clouds concealed the
blue sky; the soil was arid, and its
configuration volcanic. The arriero
would fain have passed the night at
Las Vigas, but Don Blas was for
pushing on to the usual halting-place,
and his opinion prevailed. The con-
voy was soon enveloped in a thick
fog. The travellers could hardly dis-
tinguish each other, and the upper
branches of the fir-trees were lost to
view. Parallel to the road were ra-
vines, crossed by currents of cold lava,
and there was danger of the mules
deviating from the right path. Cap-
tain Blas took things very coolly, and
seemed not the least concerned at the
peril. Not so the arriero, whose
responsibility was great, and who in-

cessantly galloped up and down the
road, the sparks flying under the feet
of his mule, counting his beasts with
an anxiety painful to behold. At
nightfall Don Blas divided the escort
into two parties. With one he rode
at the head of the convoy, the other
The march was
brought up the rear.
gloomy and silent, the chief noise
heard being the tinkle of the bell of
the leading mule, which the others
are trained to follow. Riding on the
flank of the convoy, M. Bellamare
thought over the incidents of the
morning-the disappearance of the
major-domo, the lost shoes, the lan-
guor of the mules. Just as he was
revolving his suspicions, his servant
rode up to him. We will take a page
or two from the book.

"Señor,' said Cecilio in a low voice, if you take my advice, we shall not stop here a moment longer. Something is going to happen.'

"And where can we go to?' I replied. Amongst these rocks and ravines, and when we cannot see two yards before us? But what is the matter?'

"The matter is, Señor, that Victoriano has just joined us, although The probably I alone have observed it. His coming bodes no good. story of his accident was evidently a lie.'

"Are you sure of what you say?'

"Positive; but that is not all. About a quarter of an hour ago I was in the rear, and concealed by a mass of rock, when two horsemen passed

me.

One of them was too well mounted to be a peaceable traveller. The other was dressed as a muleteer, and rode a mule, and, if I rightly understood what they said, Victoriano is their accomplice.'

"And what became of them?'

"I have no doubt that, under cover of the darkness, they mingled with the escort. It is easy to guess their object, and probably they are not alone. A whole regiment might lie concealed in these ravines. your lordship will be guided by me, we shall let the convoy proceed without us.'

If

"Not so, indeed,' I replied. 'I will go and warn the captain.'

"And who knows, Señor, whether the captain be not in league with them?

"I did not answer. Action, not words, was wanted. Without giving a thought to Cecilio's suspicions of Don Blas, I spurred my horse, intending at least to warn the master of the mules. Whilst talking with Cecilio I had fallen into the rear. I soon caught up the rear-guard, passed it and some of the mules; the others still formed a long line in front; in the midst of the fog I was guided by the sound of their steps. Some hundred paces before me, I heard the bell of the leading mule. At that moment I thought I recognised, in the horseman who rode beside me, the unpleasant countenance of Victoriano's substitute. A few seconds later the voice of a muleteer was uplifted in the darkness.

"Hallo!' he cried, is it you, Victoriano? By heavens it is! and by what chance?'

"No reply was made to the question, nor was it repeated. I shuddered, for I fancied I heard a stifled cry, followed by a heavy fall. I listened attentively, but the only sounds were the whistling of the wind and the noise of the mules' feet. I had ridden but a short distance further, when my horse shied violently, as if he distinguished through the darkness something that alarmed him. Desirous to clear up the terrible doubts that crowded upon my mind, I took out my tinder and steel, as if to light a cigar. By the faint and momentary gleams I thus obtained, I thought I distinguished a number of strange men mingled with the escort and the muleteers. They were like the figures one sees in a dream. Silent phantoms appeared to have emerged from the darkness, some draped in the red coats of the lancers, others in the striped frocks of the muleteers. Suddenly the bell of the leading mule ceased to sound; in a few seconds it was again heard, but in quite an opposite direction, and a similar bell began to ring in the ravines on the left of the road. I had seen enough, and too much; treachery was evidently at work. But what could be done to counteract it in that profound darkness, and on a road bordered by ravines? After a moment's hesitation, and at the risk of my neck, I spurred rd to gain the head of the coIt was too late. A cord

whistled over my head and encircled me; my horse made a bound; but, instead of being dragged violently ont of the saddle, and trampled under foot by the convoy, I felt myself bound to my horse with terrible tightness. The noose, intended for me alone, had also encircled him. I could not extricate my right arm, which was bound to my body, to get at my knife and cut the lasso. I plunged my spurs into my horse's flanks. The noble brute neighed, and bore forward with irresistible vigour. I felt the lasso tighten, till it almost cut into my flesh, then suddenly slacken. There was a sound as of broken girths, a furious imprecation, and I found myself free, almost before I could appreciate the danger I had escaped. Another leap of my horse almost unseated me; then he galloped furiously on. There was a report; a bullet whistled close to my ears; then were heard cries of alarm, replied to by several shots. The confusion that ensued is indescribable. The mules, deceived by the bells that rang in various directions, ran against each other, and straggled right and left. By the flashes of the firearms, one distinguished the red coats of the lancers, who fired at random in the darkness. Amidst the uproar, the report of carbines and pistols, and the whistling of bullets, the voice of the arriero was heard, loud in despair.

"My terrified horse carried me to some distance from the scene of the contest, which was over before I could pull him in and retrace my steps. The robbers had disappeared. I met Don Blas, but, before I had time to question him, a man threw himself between us, a torch in his hand, imploring the captain's help. By the light of the torch I recognised the chief muleteer. The poor fellow's face expressed the utmost grief and consternation. Some of the soldiers dismounted, and cut branches from the fir-trees, out of which they made torches. A sad spectacle then presented itself to us. The muleteers, amongst whom Victoriano's substitute was no longer to be seen, watched their mules, which were grouped round the guide mule, whose bell had disappeared. Fortunately the animals' instinct had suffered them to be deceived but for a moment by the stratagems of the robbers. Several mules

1855.]

Vagabond Life in Mexico.

were bleeding from large wounds; two soldiers, hit doubtless by their comrades' bullets, were bandaging their hurts; on one side of the road, in a shallow ravine, a muleteer writhed in the death agony. It was the man who had recognised Victoriano; he expiated the fault of having seen too well. The arriero, torch in hand, counted his mules, tearing his hair the while, or wiping away the sweat which, in spite of the coldness of the night, flowed profusely from his brow. Don Blas sat motionless in his saddle. He looked very pale, even by the red light of the torches; but nothing in his countenance betrayed the painful emotion of a man who, by negligence or misfortune, has failed in the performance of a duty. I thought of Cecilio's words.

"Five!' shrieked the muleteer; and may God have pity on me, for I shall never survive it! Five! Señor Capitan, five are gone! In one night I have lost the fruits of twenty years' toil. Ah! Señor Don Blas! by the life of your mother, try to recover them for me! Half shall be for you. Ah! why did you advise me to proceed to-night? Why did I listen to you?'

"And, dashing his torch to the ground, he threw himself down, and rolled in the dust."

Captain Blas had no reasonable pretext to refuse pursuing the robbers. He took a dozen men and set out, accompanied by M. Bellamare, who did not, however, anticipate a very successful issue to the expedition, judging from the captain's manifest disinclination to undertake it. It soon became evident that, owing to the darkness, the chase had no chance of proving productive; a halt was called in the glade of a forest, a large fire lit, and daylight was waited for. Even in the obscurity of night, however, the Mexicans showed all the sagacity of American Indians in following the trail, and profiting by the slightest indications of the passage of the robbers. The result of the pursuit was, the recovery of a mule, and the discovery of broken boxes and bags ripped up, but of dollars there was no sign. Various circumstances observed by M. Bellamare went far to convince him that Don Blas was in league with the brigands. Little by

307

little, the small party of lancers was
dispersed in different directions. The
captain and the Frenchman remained
together, and came upon a broken
box and other signs of the proximity
of the robbers. Then Don Blas re-
quested his friend to remain where he
was, and galloped off. When next
M. Bellamare saw him, he had a bullet
in his breast, and gave but a contra-
dictory and confused account of the
circumstances under which he had re-
ceived it. He was taken to La Hoya,
and had scarcely arrived there when
a detachment of the escort, which had
been patrolling the country in search
of the robbers, brought in a prisoner,
whose face was blackened, and partly
covered by a handkerchief. This dis-
guise was most suspicious, it being
the one usually adopted by Mexican
highwaymen. Notwithstanding the
mask, M. Bellamare thought he re-
cognised the features of the man who
had played a prominent part in one
of the most melancholy episodes of his
wanderings. He was not mistaken;
the captive was Thomas Verduzco,
who was forthwith taken into the cot-
tage where lay the wounded captain.
Don Blas's pale face became livid,
and hatred gleamed in his eyes, when
he beheld the bravo, who, on his part,
upon seeing the captain, assumed an
air of impudent assurance. M. Bella-
mare was a curious observer of the
scene. The captain announced his
intention of having the robber shot,
and for a moment the latter quailed
under the threat; but, speedily recov-
ering himself, he, in his turn, men-
aced Don Blas with some mysterious
revelation. This had an effect that
astonished M. Bellamare, and con-
firmed his suspicions. Don Blas had
the room cleared, and remained for
some time alone with Verduzco, who
was then given into the keeping of
Sergeant Juanito, the captain's former
servant, who was observed to treat
him with singular consideration.

After two days' halt at La Hoya, Don Blas felt himself able to proceed to the town of Jalapa, which was but five leagues off, in a litter that the muleteers arranged for the purpose. At Jalapa he would get his wound properly attended to, and also hand his prisoner over to the competent authorities. This time scouts were sent out, and precautions taken against rob

Vagabond Life in Mexico.

bers. Verduzco, strongly bound, rode behind Juanito, to whom he was strapped. M. Bellamare, who rode in rear of the convoy, observed that the sergeant's horse lagged behind, doubtless by reason of its double burthen. The prisoner and his keeper chatted as gaily as two friends going to a festival. The sun set, and M. Bellamare was some distance in the rear, pausing occasionally to observe the changing tints of the mountains, and to contemplate the beautiful valley, with its plantations of orange-trees, covered with blossom, stately palms and fruitladen banana trees, amidst which the town of Jalapa rose as from a flowerbasket. Meanwhile the convoy proceeded. He spurred after it, and quickly overtook the last horse. It was that which bore Juanito and the prisoner. He thought he remarked that the belt which bound Verduzco was less tight than before, and this circumstance, combined with various others, made him suspect an attempt at escape, favoured by Juanito. He asked himself whether he ought not to inform the captain, but reflecting that his own presence would suffice, in case of need, to prevent the projected escape, he preferred remaining where he was. Suddenly the belt, severed by the bravo's knife, relieved Verduzco, who let himself slip to the ground, and darted away. In an instant the lancer was after him, overtook him in three bounds of his horse, put the muzzle of his carbine to his head, and scattered his brains before M. Bellamare had found time to speak or interfere. Then, replacing his smoking weapon on his saddle, he dismounted, pulled off the dead man's boots, and exchanged them for the shoe and bottine he himself wore. This done, he coolly remounted, and resumed his march. The Frenchman was all curiosity to clear up the mysterious conduct of the captain and the sergeant with respect to Verduzco. Juanito's discretion was not proof against a bribe.

"You will easily suppose, my lord cavalier,' he said, that in acting as I have done, I did but obey my captain's orders. To have had yonder robber shot might have got us into trouble with the authorities, and to put him into the hands of the judges

[March,

would have been giving him a fine chance of getting off scot-free. But I was perfectly justified in killing him arranged with the captain that that when he tried to escape, and it was was how the thing should be done.'

the death of a man with whom he was "But why did your captain desire recently on friendly and intimate terms?'

"That is another matter,' replied der my charge, he grew confidential. Juanito. 'Whilst Verduzco was unThe captain had told me to confess my prisoner, and I succeeded in doing

So.

undertaken to obtain, by exerting From him I learned that he had certain interest he had in a high quarter, authorisation for the captain to escort the first silver convoy quitting Mexico, on condition that he would in which case he was to have half the consent to a part of it being plundered, booty. You know what happened to that the robbery was committed by the convoy; but the best of the joke is, another band, and not by that of Verduzco, who had certainly not calculated on such competition. Whilst he awaited our arrival beyond La Hoya, other banditti waylaid it a few leagues nearer to Mexico. It was by the latter that the captain was wounded; and, believing himself betrayed by Verduzco, he ordered me to take the first opportunity to blow his brains he learns his death and confession.'" out. He will breathe more freely when

rified, either the emotion caused by Instead of this prediction being veJuanito's communication, or the fatigue of the journey, brought on hemorrhage, and Don Blas was a corpse before he reached Jalapa. Saddened by the scenes he had witnessed, and fierce and brutal passions impelled weary of the company of men whose them to the commission of every sort of crime, M. Bellamare detached himself from the convoy, and, attended coast, there to embark for Europe. only by his servant, proceeded to the ries of Mexican Sketches from the We might have hoped for a third seaccident. Recently, when again crosssame lively pen, but for an unfortunate ing the Atlantic, M. Bellamare, who, during his long rambles in tropical lands, had escaped so many perils, met his death by drowning.

CIVILISATION. THE CENSUS.

I THINK it has been made out, Eusebius, at least inferentially, that civilisation is a condition of social health; that its opposite is a degraded state of disease. And may we not add that this disease is epidemic and contagious? Barbarism begets barbarism, till it ends in savagery, cannibalism, and annihilation of a race. I suppose the Canaanites were, before the curse came upon them, a civilised people. Their degeneration brought on them their punishment. How ignorantly we hear people talk of savages as in a state of nature. It is not true; history denies it, sacred and profane. Races of mankind pass from the higher to the lower state. indeed, have they been known, when they have reached the lowest state, to revive; perhaps never of themselves, but by being mixed, blended, and, as it were, lost in amalgamation with a better stock.

Seldom,

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Progeniem vitiosiorem "?

I do not see how this former civilisation of mankind can be denied. Take it for granted, Eusebius, and it follows as the head and front of the argument, that civilisation is a thing lost, or at least deteriorated, to be regained and, if it did not savour of the modern philosophers' notion of perfectibility, I should say to be perfected. I can fancy a pert argner asking how our first parents, and their immediate descendants, can be said to have been civilised, before there was a civitas (civil society) from which civilisation takes its name-a bond of the many before there were the many? And why not? The whole human race was in our forefather. His, though injured, perfecter mind than ours, comprehended in a high degree

What

all the capabilities of all his posterity -was endowed with perceptions of the beautiful in all things, in the external and the internal world, himself. If he had few to commune with comparatively, even as he advanced in years, there could be no lack of thought, for there was yet with him that creative faculty complete which passed on to his descendants in inferior power, and has gifted, and still gifts, the chosen of mankind with genius. What if the brightness, the great conceptions, the super-excellence of beauty of the best literature was in him, not latent but alive, and germinated, and bore visible fruit in his descendants? Are we to suppose, because it was not contained in bound volumes, it could not have been contained in his intellectual soul? Trace such a narrow thought to its legitimate source, positive atheism, and who would not be shocked at the conclusion? are books?-the best of them-but the regathering up the intellectual and moral treasures, dissipated and smothered among the heaps of ill-doings of a degenerate posterity, who, if they had not degenerated, would not have needed them now, but known all, seen all, and enjoyed all, by an intuition, which we can never recover thoroughly as a possession in this world? Yes, Eusebius, what are books? The registers of high and pure thoughts for us on earth, which, for aught we know to the contrary, are duplicated, registered, photographed, as it were, in and by a brighter atmosphere, thoughts rising, self-buoyant, out of the world's corruptions, which are not allowed to hold them. All that is good in all books that ever have been written, is good without books, and elsewhere, and was a portion of the great universal intelligence as soon as thought and conceived, and perhaps beforegiven and kindly dealt out to us (who knows), at any rate needing not a visible utterance in printed volumes. But what gifts are there that have not ever been and are still perverted? Here comes in the old story, the tares among the wheat. There are the "devil's books," and plenty of them;

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