"The odds are all against them, you see. Lord Cochrane has scooped up their navy, San Martin is waiting to pounce on Lima, they have to watch General Bolivar in the north, and most of the people are in favour of the revolution. Hullo! here we are! I suppose you'll come with me to the camp?"

"Yes," said Jose, "and back to the ship if you will let us. We can do no good here."

"All right. I daresay we can find you a berth."

The young surgeon came near to losing his self-possession when he saw the actual state of things.

"Whew!" exclaimed he, "this will have to be altered. Why, the men are dying on their feet! And I suppose it's the same old story--not enough doctors, no proper attendants, and musty drugs. Well, we'll clear the colonel out of it first, and then see what can be done for the others."

While he attended to his patient, we had a litter made ready, in which the colonel was placed and carried to the water's edge, where the ship's boat was in waiting. The sailors rowed steadily and well, and we soon had the satisfaction of seeing the sick man comfortably installed in one of the ship's cabins.

Lord Cochrane showed the greatest concern at his old friend's shocking condition, and did everything possible to help forward his recovery.

As it chanced, I was much in the sick man's cabin; the doctor, to whom I had taken a singular liking, using me as a sort of a.s.sistant. In the early evening he went ash.o.r.e with the admiral, who also took Jose with him, and together they visited the sick camp. It was late when they returned, but our patient had suffered no hurt during their absence.

Indeed he lay very still and quiet, while from time to time I wiped the sweat from his brow and gave him cooling drinks.

Jose did not come into the cabin again, but I heard from the doctor that it had been decided to bring the soldiers on board, in the hope that a sea voyage would set up their strength. Our own particular Indians returned to the Hidden Valley, but in the course of a day or two the rest of the troops were embarked on the flagship. Then we stood out to sea, bearing southward, the other vessels of the squadron taking the opposite direction.

Thanks partly to the young surgeon's skill, but chiefly, perhaps, to his own marvellous const.i.tution, the colonel began to mend slowly. The fever abated, he was able to take some nourishing food, and at last a day came when we carried him on deck.

It was extraordinary to behold the joy with which his appearance was greeted, not only by his own troops, but by every man on board. Some of them knew him only by report, but most of the sailors had witnessed his daring deeds, while the marines had taken part in them.

The officers, too, from the admiral downward, came about him, and though too weak as yet for much talk, he acknowledged their kindness by a charming and fascinating smile.

At the end of an hour the doctor gave orders that he should be carried back to his cabin, saying with a laugh, "That's enough excitement for the first day, colonel. Mustn't overdo it, you know."

Whether it was the bracing effect of the fresh sea air, or the sight of his men's most obvious improvement, I know not, but from that day his strength increased with astonishing rapidity.

During this period of convalescence he talked with me a good deal, and in the kindest manner, so that shortly I became as ardent a hero-worshipper as the others. He sent for Jose, too, thanked him for his prompt action, and declared that in a sense he was indebted to him for his life.

"But," said he, smiling, "I don't know yet who you are, or how you came to turn up at Pisco just at the right moment!" Whereupon Jose gave him an outline of our story.

He listened attentively, and at the end said, "I have heard of your father, my boy, through General San Martin, who will be glad to make your acquaintance. Meanwhile I shall charge myself with your welfare--that is, if you care to share my fortunes."

"I ask for nothing better, sir," I replied, flushing with pleasure.

"There is no leader I would rather choose to follow."

"Then you shall have your wish," said he, "unless the general finds other work for you."

CHAPTER VII.

WHOM THE G.o.dS LOVE DIE YOUNG.

It was, I believe, Lord Cochrane's desire to land his troops close to the port of Arica; but two unsuccessful attempts having been made, the plan was abandoned.

Colonel Miller, who had by this time resumed his duties, next transferred his men to two small schooners captured from the enemy, and having taken on board food and water sufficient for twenty-four hours, set sail for the Morro de Sama, a miserable port ten leagues north of Arica.

Jose and I accompanied him, as did also, to my great delight, the young doctor. Our two vessels were crazy craft: they had only temporary rudders, and it was impossible to steer with any degree of accuracy.

Owing to this the trip occupied just double the calculated time, so that on landing we were half dead with hunger and thirst. The soldiers still suffered somewhat from the effects of the ague: their legs tottered under them, and at first they could not march longer than half an hour at a time without lying down to rest.

You must not, however, suppose that we were at all downhearted on this account. The men had the greatest confidence in their leader, while the gaiety and high spirits of the young doctor acted as a fine tonic.

He was full of quips and cranks, and his merry sayings brought a smile to the faces of even the most wearied.

A winding path three miles in length brought us to the summit of a steep mountain, where we stopped awhile to rest, and to enjoy the refreshing breeze.

"Well, Crawford," exclaimed the doctor cheerfully, when we once more resumed the march, "how do you like being on active service? A pleasant change, isn't it, from being cooped up on board ship?"

At the moment I hardly agreed with him, but I made an effort to reply to his banter.

Only to a few of us was the really desperate nature of our expedition known. Of the Spaniards we entertained no manner of fear; the sole terror lay in the route to be traversed. We were already parched by thirst, and more than twenty miles of sandy desert lay between us and water.

Nor was this all. Only one man knew the route, and years had gone by since he had last travelled over it. If his strength or memory failed, it might well happen that the dreary desert would be our burial-place and the loose sand our winding-sheet. It was not exactly a cheering prospect, but we made the best of it.

The colonel marched at the head of his men, the doctor at the rear, so that he might a.s.sist any unfortunate stragglers, while Jose and I went forward with the guide.

With frequent halts for rest we ploughed our way through the shifting sand, our eyes aching and our throats terribly dry.

About midnight, as near as I could judge, the guide stopped irresolutely.

"What is it?" asked Jose, in an excited whisper; "what is wrong?"

We could not see the fellow's face, but he seemed very agitated, and there was a break in his voice as he answered,--

"I don't know--I am not sure--but I can't be certain that we are on the right track."

The words sounded like a sentence of death, and I could hardly repress a cry of horror.

"Be still!" whispered Jose; "the men must not know. Stay here a minute while I ask the colonel to halt. That will give us a little breathing-s.p.a.ce."

He was soon back, and taking the guide's arm, he exclaimed,--

"Now come, get your wits about you, and let us see what can be done.

Where do you think we ought to be?"

"I don't know," replied the guide helplessly. "The saints preserve us, or we are lost!"

"Now look here," said Jose sternly: "you are giving way, and that won't do. Pluck up your courage, man, and remember that all our lives are in your hands."

I think, perhaps, this awful responsibility had much to do with breaking the guide down. He wrung his hands and groaned, saying aloud that he had brought us to death.

"But we aren't dead yet," I remarked, "and needn't be if only you will collect your wits. Come, let us cast about a bit; maybe you'll find some landmark that will help you."

"No, no," he cried; "we may be right now, and if we stray away we shall certainly be lost. May the saints preserve us!"

I think the fellow would be there yet, but for the click of Jose's pistol and the stern ring in his voice as he said sharply,--