The Project Gutenberg eBook, In the Hands of the Cave-Dwellers, by G. A. Henty, Illustrated by Wat. Miller

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Title: In the Hands of the Cave-Dwellers

Author: G. A. Henty

Release Date: June 30, 2013 [eBook #43067]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

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In the Hands of the Cave-Dwellers

BY G. A. HENTY

Author of "With Roberts to Pretoria" "Won by the Sword" "To Herat and Cabul" &c.

ILLUSTRATED BY WAT. MILLER

BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED
LONDON GLASGOW AND DUBLIN

"FOUR INDIANS STEPPED FROM AMONG THE TREES"

CONTENTS

IN THE HANDS OF THE CAVE-DWELLERS

CHAPTER I

A MIDNIGHT ATTACK

It was late in the evening at San Diego, in the autumn of the year 1832; there was no moon, but the stars shone so brightly in the clear, dry atmosphere that it was easy to distinguish objects at some little distance. A young fellow, in the dress of a sailor, was making his way through the narrow streets that bordered the port, when he heard a sudden shout, followed by fierce exclamations and Mexican oaths. Without pausing to consider whether it was prudent to interfere, he grasped tightly a cudgel he had that day cut, and ran to the spot where it was evident that a conflict was going on. It was but some forty yards away, and as he approached he made out four figures who were dodging round a doorway and were evidently attacking someone standing there. The inequality of the combat was sufficient to appeal to the sailor's sympathies. The sand that lay thick in the street had deadened his footsteps, and his presence was unmarked till his stick descended with a sharp crack on the up-lifted wrist of one of the assailants, eliciting a yell of pain, while the knife the man held flew across the street.

One of the man's companions turned upon the new-comer, but the sailor's arm was already raised, and the cudgel lighted with such force on the man's head that he fell stunned to the ground. This unexpected assault caused the other two fellows to pause and look around, and in an instant the defender of the doorway bounded forward and buried his knife in one of their bodies, while the other at once fled, followed by the man whose wrist had been broken by the sailor's first blow.

"Carambo, señor!" the Mexican said. "You have rendered me a service indeed, and I tender you a thousand thanks. I could not have held out much longer, for I had been more than once wounded before you arrived."

"You are heartily welcome, señor. It was but a slight business—two blows with my stick and the matter was done."

"You are not a countryman of mine, señor," the other said, for the sailor spoke with a strong accent; "you are a stranger, and, as I can see now, a sailor."

"That is so. I am an American."

"Is that so?" the other said, speaking this time in English. "As you see, I know about as much of your tongue as you do of mine. I thought you must be a stranger even before I observed your dress, for street frays are not uncommon in this town, whereas in other ports there are scores of men ready for any villany, and few of my people would care to interfere in a fray in which they have no interest. But do not let us stay here. It is best to get out of this quarter."

"Shall we do anything with these fellows? The one I hit can only be stunned, and I should think we ought to give him in charge to the watch."

The other laughed. "You might wait some time before we found them, and, besides, it would give us a deal of trouble. No; leave them where they lie. The one I struck at least will never get up again. Now, señor, may I ask the name of my preserver? Mine is Juan Sarasta."

"Mine is William Harland," the sailor replied.

"We are friends for life, Señor Harland," the Mexican said, as he held out his hand and gripped that of the sailor warmly. "Where are you staying?"

"I am staying nowhere at present," the sailor laughed. "I deserted