Buffalo Bill's death message or, In the face of doom
he was being cheated when he could not understand every word said. “Why
don’t you talk United States? It’s well-nigh treason tew talk anything
but United States in this country.”
But at intervals the scout explained for his benefit what had been said.
All speculation concerning the manner in which the dagger had killed
Ramon Periguez seemed useless.
While they still talked, a flare of fire greeted their eyes at the
barred window.
Looking from the window, they discovered that a great bonfire had been
kindled at the foot of the cliff, among the trees, that it might light
up the hacienda wall on that side, and so reveal to the watchers any
attempt which the prisoners might make to escape by way of the window.
“That cuts us off in that direction,” said the scout, “but we could not
have got out here, if we had tried, for we had no ropes, and the jump
down in the darkness would be to commit suicide.”
“Alas! We are doomed!” said the prince.
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CHAPTER XLI.
MUSIC HATH CHARMS.
“Since I have been held here,” Prince Mogador went on, “attempts have
been made to get me to sign papers relinquishing my rights to the throne
of my country. I refused; I would have died first. I think ultimately I
should have been murdered in this place. Perhaps even now my
false-hearted brother sits on the throne, for my father’s health was
precarious. I have not heard from my native land for months. But
whatever befalls, my beautiful Irene will stand by my side, and if I
should one day mount to the throne of my fathers, she will be with me
even then.”
But the next moment he was bewailing the fate that held him a prisoner
in the tower and declaring that they would never be able to get out with
their lives.
While Prince Mogador was still talking, the scout, looking from the
window at the fire below, had an inspiration.
“You will notice, prince,” he said, “that a good many men are down there
round that fire; it seems to me from the number I see that nearly all
the garrison of this place must be there.”
“They have guards stationed in the hall, no doubt, and at the door
below,” said Prince Mogador, in a despairing tone.
The scout turned to the women and Spalding.
“I have been informed by your uncle, Miss Nelson, that you are a noted
singer.”
“Singing is my profession,” she admitted.
“I have hit on a plan, and shall want your coöperation. Will you sing
for me?”
“Here?” she said, astonished.
“Yes, here; I want to see what effect it will have on those men below.”
Irene went to the window and looked out. Then she began to sing in a
voice of marvelous beauty and strength. Old Enos Spalding listened
enraptured.
“Cody, what’s this singin’ fur here?”
The scout was watching the men from the window. He advised the girl to
stand back a little, lest some reckless devil down there might send a
bullet at her; and, for the same reason, when he looked forth, he was
careful not to expose his person to their view.
The singing seemed at first to startle the men below. The scout beheld
the false Leon Ruiz among them, and pointed him out to Prince Mogador.
“Ah, that man! That is Malvolio Ducraz, my worst enemy of all there. So,
he would take the estate of the noble Don Leon Ruiz? May the curses of
Heaven blast him!”
The men stood up in the midst of the trees, listening to the singing
from the barred window of the high tower. The woman’s voice floated
clear and birdlike out into the night air. It certainly was a strange
stage for an opera singer.
The scout walked softly over to the door and listened.
“Keep on singing!” he said. “It has drawn their attention.”
He fitted to the lock one of the keys on his key ring, and listened as
he twisted it around.
When he drew the door open, he saw that the hall beyond was empty of
human beings, but that across it there had been slipped into place, down
some grooves in the walls, a series of iron bars that effectually cut
off escape in that direction. Apparently there was no need for the
keepers of the hacienda to watch that hall; the bars were enough.
Down the short flight of steps the scout descended to the bars, and
tested them. So far as he could discover there was no one near, though
he heard voices below the farther stairs, which told him guards were
stationed there.
Soon he heard some of these guards ascending. Thereupon he retreated
quickly into the tower room and relocked the door behind him.
“If you can continue that singing, I think we may have a chance to get
out of here,” he said to the woman, as he listened for the approach of
the guards from below.
All heard them as they came up to the door, where for a few moments they
stood to hear the singing. Though it puzzled them when they discovered
that the door was as they had left it, they retreated, closing the
barred exit in the hall as they went.
“Now, my plan!” said the scout, speaking hurriedly. “I have here, in the
brim of my wide hat, a saw of finely tempered steel, made for the
especial purpose of cutting through iron bars. It will take long work to
cut through out there, as it will be necessary to sever two of the bars;
but if Miss Nelson can hold those men by her singing, and so cover up
the noise I may make, perhaps I can do it. I want to make the trial.”
All were eager for him to do so, even Irene stopped her singing for a
brief time to discuss this new hope with him.
“We must do something of the kind,” he declared, “if we are to get out
of here. They think they have us secluded securely, and that we have not
a single chance of getting out. Perhaps we may be able to surprise
them.”
Irene began again to sing by the window, while the scout and Spalding
crept down the short flight of stairs, after the scout had again
unlocked the door of their prison room.
“You watch while I work,” was the scout’s orders. “I don’t want them to
surprise me. Your ears are good?”
“The best ever,” said the Yankee, dropping down on his knees and laying
an ear against the crack under the lower bar. “If they git up them steps
without me hearin’ em, they’ll have tew come paowerful quiet.”
From the wide rim of his hat the scout, in the darkness, drew out a fine
saw, the texture of which was so superior that he could bend the thin
blade about in his fingers almost as if it were a ribbon. This saw he
applied to one of the bars, and began work.
For two solid hours Irene Nelson entertained with her singing the
ruffians gathered around the bonfire amid the trees below the barred
window of that high tower. She sang as she had never sung before any
audience in either the New or the Old World. Hitherto she had sung for
fame and money, now she felt that she was singing for liberty and life.
The Spanish are a music-loving people. Those men knew what good singing
was, and they had seldom heard anything so good as this. They stood as
if enraptured. If they suspected the meaning of it, they gave no sign.
Apparently they believed she was thus singing to lighten the hearts of
her fellow prisoners. Now and then there were cries of “Bravo!” and a
clapping of hands.
Buffalo Bill worked without stop. At the end of two hours he had cut
away two of the iron bars.
Before announcing his success even to Spalding, he replaced the precious
saw carefully in the brim of his big hat.
“There!” he said. “Two bars are off, and that will let us out of here.
We’ll have to fight in the room below, to get past those guards; but by
making a rushing surprise we can go through, I don’t doubt.”
Spalding wanted to yell, but he restrained this wild desire.
The man and women in the other room were informed of the success of the
scout’s labors. The singing stopped.
“Now, follow me!” said the scout. “Take this revolver, Prince Mogador,
and use it. Spalding, I can rely on you. This is to be a desperate break
for freedom, and we must get through.”
Then they followed him out of the room, through the cut bars in the hall
at the foot of the short stairs, and on down to the guardroom just
below. Into this guardroom they dashed, shooting at the men they saw
there.
Six men were in the room, all armed, all smoking; they had been
listening to the singing, and were asking themselves why it had
continued so long and then so abruptly had stopped.
Through the room, still shooting and now yelling, rushed the scout, with
his companions dashing along right behind him; and so sudden did they
come that the guards were overwhelmed, and offered no resistance to
their quick passage. Less than five minutes later they were outside of
the big hacienda.
Here along the wall the scout led, while the startled men who had been
by the bonfire were coming up at a fast run.
The fugitives were soon out beyond the trees on the opposite of the big
house, and well under cover of the darkness.
Straight northward the scout led the way, avoiding all pitfalls with
wonderful skill—the sort of skill that has made Buffalo Bill famous the
world over. The next morning they were far away, and had baffled
pursuit. The scout concealed their trail and hid his little party in the
hills, and for their sustenance he killed game with his revolver.
The next night they pressed on again. They baffled and distanced their
pursuers, and two days later safely reached some outposts of
civilization. Thence, after resting a day or two, they proceeded to
Klamath, where they were joined by Emily’s anxious lover and her father,
to whom they related their adventures.
“Emily,” said Mr. Fernald, with mock severity, “you’ve got to do either
one of the only two things that’ll keep you out of danger: stay home
with me at the ranch, or—marry John Butler. Take your choice!”
“I choose—John,” said the girl.
“Cody, you’ll have to stay here and be best man at our wedding,” said
Butler, when he found words to speak.
* * * * *
It was three months after the wedding when the scout received the
following letter, bearing a queer foreign postmark; it was from Enos
Spalding:
“MY DEAR CODY: Well, we arrived in this confounded country
all right and O. K. But fer me it was the most seasicky
voyage you ever heard about. The prince was the real thing.
He married Irene in New York, ye know, before we set out fer
this place; and here he married her again, according to the
customs of this country. Two weddin’s ought to make the
nupshal tie plenty good and strong, hadn’t it?
“Well, you’d ought to be here to see things. They’d surprise
ye. I’m more and more surprised every day I live; and to
think I never ever dreamp that there was sech a country as
this kingdom!
“Ye see, the old king he died; and the brother what made all
the trouble fur the prince, he cut out when he found that he
was likely to lose his head fur what he’d done to Moggie. I
call the new king Moggie, though Irene she says ’tain’t
befittin’ and proper. Well, you’d ought to see things here!
I jes’ wish you could see some of these heathen when they
drap down and paound their heads on the pavement when I pass
by! ’Twould shore tickle ye. Fur, ye see, I’m the queen’s
uncle, and that means I’m a big man in these parts. Haow’s
that fur old Enos Spalding, of Spalding’s Corners, Vermont?
By heck, at night sometimes I think shore I’m dreamin’ it,
and that I’ll wake up in the mornin’ and find I’m back tew
Spalding’s Corners.
“Come over, Cody, I’ll give ye the time of yer life.
“Your old friend,