He rushed forward. The others all at his side. The Italians stood paralyzed at the effect of the revolver. As Buttons led the charge they fell back a few paces.
"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" burst Buttons, the Senator, and Dick, as each snatched a rifle from the prostrate bandits, and hastily tore the cartridge-boxes from them.
"Load up! load up! Doctor!" cried Buttons.
"All right,"' said the Doctor, who never changed in his cool self-possession.
But now the Italians with curses and screams came back to the attack. It is absolutely stupefying to think how few shots hit the mark in the excitement of a fight. Here were a number of men firing from a distance of hardly more than forty paces, and not one took effect.
The next moment the whole crowd were upon them. Buttons snatched Mr. Figgs's razor from his grasp and used it vigorously. Dick plied his bowie-knife. The Senator wielded a clubbed rifle on high as though it were a wand, and dealt the blows of a giant upon the heads of his assailants. All the Italians were physically their inferiors--small, puny men. Mr. Figgs made a wild dash at the first man he saw and seized his rifle. The fight was spirited.
The rascally brigands were nearly three times as numerous, but the Americans surpassed them in bodily strength and spirit.
Crash--crash--fell the Senator's rifle, and down went two men. His strength was enormous--absorbed as it had been from the granite cliffs of the old Granite State. Two brawny fellows seized him from behind. A thrust of his elbow laid one low. Buttons slashed the wrist of the other. A fellow threw himself on Buttons. Dick's bowie-knife laid open his arm and thigh. The next moment Dick went down beneath the blows of several Italians. But Buttons rushed with his razor to rescue Dick. Three men glared at him with uplifted weapons. Down came the Senator's clubbed rifle like an avalanche, sweeping their weapons over the cliff. They turned simultaneously on the Senator, and grasped him in a threefold embrace. Buttons's razor again drank blood. Two turned upon him. Bang! went the Doctor's pistol, sending one of them shrieking to the ground. Bang! Once more, and a fellow who had nearly overpowered the breathless Figgs staggered back. Dick was writhing on the ground beneath the weight of a dead man and a fellow who was trying to suffocate him. Buttons was being throttled by three others who held him powerless, his razor being broken. A crack on Mr. Figgs's head laid him low. The Doctor stood off at a little distance hastily reloading.
The Senator alone was free; but six fierce fellows assailed him. It was now as in the old Homeric days, when the heroic soul, sustained by iron nerve and mighty muscle, came out particularly strong in the hour of conflict.
The Senator's form towered up like one of his own granite cliffs in the storm--as rugged, as unconquerable. His blood was up! The same blood it was that coursed through the veins of Cromwell's grim old "Ironsides," and afterward animated those sturdy backwoods-men who had planted themselves in American forests, and beaten back wild beasts and howling savages.
Buttons, prostrate on the ground, looked up, gasping through the smoke and dust, as he struggled with his assailants. He saw the Senator, his hair bristling out straight, his teeth set, his eye on fire, his whole expression sublimed by the ardor of battle. His clothes were torn to shreds; his coat was gone, his hat nowhere, his hands and face were covered with clots of blood and streaks from mud, dust, smoke, and powder.
The eye of Buttons took in all this in one glance. The next instant, with a wide sweep of his clubbed rifle the Senator put forth all his gigantic strength in one tremendous effort. The shock was irresistible. Down went the six bandits as though a cannon-ball had struck them. The Senator leaped away to relieve Dick, and seizing his assailant by neck and heel, flung him over the cliff. Then tearing away another from Mr. Figgs's prostrate and almost senseless form, he rushed back upon the six men whom he had just levelled to the earth.
Dick sprang to the relief of Buttons, who was at his last extremity. But the Doctor was before him, as cool as ever. He grasped one fellow by the throat--a favorite trick of the Doctor's, in which his anatomical knowledge came very finely into play:
"Off!" rang the Doctor's voice.
The fellow gasped a curse. The next instant a roar burst through the air, and the wretch fell heavily forward, shot through the head, while his brains were splattered over the face of Buttons. The Doctor with a blow of his fist sent the other fellow reeling over.
Buttons sprang up gasping. The Italians were falling back. He called to the Senator. That man of might came up. Thank God they were all alive! Bruised, and wounded, and panting--but alive.
The scowling bandits drew off, leaving seven of their number on the road _hors de combat_. Some of the retreating ones had been badly treated, and limped and staggered. The Club proceeded to load their rifles.
The Doctor stepped forward. Deliberately aiming he fired his revolver five times in rapid succession. Before he had time to load again the bandits had darted into the woods.
"Every one of those bullets _hit_," said the Doctor with unusual emphasis.
"We must get under cover at once," said Dick. "They'll be back shortly with others!"
"Then we must fortify our position," said the Senator, "and wait for relief. As we were, though, it was lucky they tried a hand-to-hand fight first. This hill shelters us on one side. There are so many trees that they can't roll stones down, nor can they shoot us. We'll fix a barricade in front with our baggage. We'll have to fight behind a barricade this time; though, by the Eternal! I wish it were hand-to-hand again, for I don't remember of ever having had such a glorious time in all my born days!"
The Senator passed his hand over his gory brow, and walked to the coach.
"Where's Pietro?"
"Pietro! _Pietro_!"
No answer.
"PI-E-TRO!"
Still no answer.
"Pietro!" cried Dick, "if you don't come here I'll blow your--"
"Oh! is it you, Signori?" exclaimed Pietro's voice; and that worthy appeared among the trees a little way up the hill. He was deadly pale, and trembled so much that he could scarcely speak.
"Look here!" cried Buttons; "we are going to barricade ourselves."
"Barricade!"
"We can not carry our baggage away, and we are not going to leave it behind. We expect to have another battle."
Pietro's face grew livid.
"You can stay and help us if you wish."
Pietro's teeth chattered.
"Or you can help us far more, by running to the nearest town and letting the authorities know."
"Oh, Signore, trust me! I go."
"Make haste, then, or you may find us all murdered, and then how will you get your fares--eh?"
"I go--I go; I will run all the way!"
"Won't you take a gun to defend yourself with?"
"Oh no!" cried Pietro, with horror. "No, no!"
In a few minutes he had vanished among the thick woods.
Pietro.
[Illustration: Pietro.]
After stripping the prostrate Italians the travellers found themselves in possession of seven rifles, with cartridges, and some other useful articles. Four of these men were stone-dead. They pulled their bodies in front of their place of shelter. The wounded men they drew inside, and the Doctor at once attended to them, while the others were strengthening the barricade.
"I don't like putting these here," said the Senator; "but it'll likely frighten the brigands, or make them delicate about firing at us. That's my idee."
The horses were secured fast. Then the baggage was piled all around, and made an excellent barricade. With this and the captured rifles they felt themselves able to encounter a small regiment.
"Now let them come on," cried the Senator, "just as soon as they damn please! We'll try first the European system of barricades; and if that don't work, then we can fall back, on the real original, national, patriotic, independent, manly, native American, true-blue, and altogether heroic style!"
"What is that?"
The Senator looked at the company, and held out his clenched fist:
"Why, from behind a tree, in the woods, like your glorious forefathers!"
The Barricade.
[Illustration: The Barricade.]
CHAPTER XL
.
PLEASANT MEDIATIONS ABOUT THE WONDERS OF TOBACCO; AND THREE PLEASANT ANECDOTES BY AN ITALIAN BRIGAND.
A pull apiece at the brandy-flask restored strength and freshness to the beleaguered travellers, who now, intrenched behind their fortifications, awaited any attack which the Italians might choose to make.
"The _I_talians," said the Senator, "are not a powerful race. By no means. Feeble in body--no muscle--no brawn. Above all, no real _pluck_. Buttons, is there a word in their language that expresses the exact idee of _pluck_?"
"Or _game_?"
"No."
"Or even _spunk_?"
"No."
"I thought not," said the Senator, calmly. "They haven't the _idee_, and can't have the word. Now it would require a rather considerable crowd to demolish us at the present time."
"How long will we have to stay here?" asked Mr. Figgs abruptly.
"My dear Sir," said Buttons, with more sprightliness than he had shown for many days, "be thankful you are here at all. We'll get off at some time to-day. These fellows are watching us, and the moment we start they'll fire on us. We would be a good mark for them in the coach. No, we must wait a while."
Seated upon the turf, they gave themselves up to the pleasing influence that flows from the pipe. Is there any thing equal to it? How did the ancients contrive to while away the time without it? Had they known its effects how they would have cherished it! We should now be gazing on the ruins of venerable temples, reared by adoring votaries to the goddess Tabaca. Boys at school would have construed passages about her. Lempriere, Smith, Anthon, Drissler, and others would have done honor to her. Classic mythology would have been full of her presence. Olympian Jove would have been presented to us with this divinity as his constant attendant, and a nimbus around his immortal brows of her making. Bacchus would have had a rival, a superior!
Poets would have told how TABACA went over the world girt in that but set off the more her splendid radiance. We should have known how much Bacchus had to do with [Transcriber's Note: Greek Transliteration] ta bakcheia [/end Greek]; a chapter which will probably be a lost one in the History of Civilization. But that he who smokes should drink beer is quite indisputable. Whether the beer is to be X, XX, or XXX; or whether the brewer's name should begin with an A, as in Alsopp, and run through the whole alphabet, ending with V, as in Vassar, may be fairly left to individual consideration.
What noble poetry, what spirited odes, what eloquent words, has not the world lost by the ignorance of the Greek and Roman touching this plant?
The above remarks were made by Dick on this occasion. But Buttons was talking with the wounded Italians.
The Doctor had bound up their wounds and Buttons had favored them with a drop from his flask. Dick cut up some tobacco and filled a pipe for each. After all, the Italians were not fiends. They had attacked them not from malice, but purely from professional motives.
Yet, had their enemies been Tedeschi, no amount of attention would have overcome their sullen hate. But being Americans, gay, easy, without malice, in fact kind and rather agreeable, they softened, yielded altogether, and finally chatted familiarly with Buttons and Dick. They were young, not worse in appearance than the majority of men; perhaps not bad fellows in their social relations; at any rate, rather inclined to be jolly in their present circumstances. They were quite free in their expressions of admiration for the bravery of their captors, and looked with awe upon the Doctor's revolver, which was the first they had ever seen.
In fact, the younger prisoner became quite communicative. Thus:
"I was born in Velletri. My age is twenty-four years. I have never shed blood except three times. The first time was in Narni--odd place, Narni. My employer was a vine-dresser. The season was dry; the brush caught fire, I don't know how, and in five minutes a third of the vineyard was consumed to ashes. My employer came cursing and raving at me, and swore he'd make me work for him till I made good the loss. Enraged, I struck him. He seized an axe. I drew my stiletto, and--of course I had to run away.
"The second time was in Naples. The affair was brought about by a woman. Signore, women are at the bottom of most crimes that men commit. I was in love with her. A friend of mine fell in love with her too. I informed him that if he interfered with me I would kill him. I told her that if she encouraged him I would kill him and her too. I suppose she was piqued. Women will get piqued sometimes. At any rate she gave him marked encouragement. I scolded and threatened. No use. She told me she was tired of me; that I was too tyrannical. In fact, she dared to turn me off and take the other fellow. Maffeo was a good fellow. I was sorry for him, but I had to keep my word.
"The third time was only a month ago. I robbed a Frenchman, out of pure patriotism--the French, you know, are our oppressors--and kept what I found about him to reward me for my gallant act. The Government, however, did not look upon it in a proper light. They sent out a detachment to arrest me. I was caught, and by good fortune brought to an inn. At night I was bound tightly and shut up in the same room with the soldiers. The innkeeper's daughter, a friend of mine, came in for something, and by mere chance dropped a knife behind me. I got it, cut my cords, and when they were all asleep I departed. Before going I left the knife behind; and where now, Signore, do you think I left it?"
"I have no idea."
"You would never guess. You never would have thought of it yourself."
"Where did you leave it?"
"In the heart of the Captain."
CHAPTER XLI
.
FINAL ATTACK OF REINFORCEMENTS OF BRIGANDS.--THE DODGE CLUB DEFIES THEM AND REPELS THEM.--HOW TO MAKE A BARRICADE.--FRATERNIZATION OF AMERICAN EAGLE AND GALLIC COCK.--THERE'S NOTHING LIKE LEATHER.
"It is certainly a singular position for an American citizen to be placed in," said the Senator. "To come from a cotton-mill to such a regular out-and-out piece of fighting as this. Yet it seems to me that fighting comes natural to the American blood."
"They've been very quiet for ever so long," said Mr. Figgs; "perhaps they've gone away."
"I don't believe they have, for two reasons. The first is, they are robbers, and want our money; the second, they are Italians, and want revenge. They won't let us off so easily after the drubbing we gave them."
Thus Buttons, and the others rather coincided in his opinion. For several miles further on the road ran through a dangerous place, where men might lurk in ambush, and pick them off like so many snipe. They rather enjoyed a good fight, but did not care about being regularly shot down. So they waited.
It was three in the afternoon. Fearfully hot, too, but not so bad as it might have been. High trees sheltered them. They could ruminate under the shade. The only difficulty was the want of food. What can a garrison do that is ill provided with eatables? The Doctor's little store of crackers and cheese was divided and eaten. A basket of figs and oranges followed. Still they were hungry.
"Well," said Dick, "there's one thing we can do if the worst comes to the worst."
"What's that?"
"Go through the forest in Indian file back to Perugia."
"That's all very well," said the Senator, stubbornly, "but we're not going back. No, Sir, not a step!"
"I'm tired of this," said Buttons, impatiently. "I'll go out as scout."
"I'll go too," said Dick.
"Don't go far, boys," said the Senator, in the tone of an anxious father.
"No, not very. That hill yonder will be a good lookout place."
"Yes, if you are not seen yourselves."
"We'll risk that. If we see any signs of these scoundrels, and find that they see us, we will fire to let you know. If we remain undiscovered we will come back quietly."
"Very well. But I don't like to let you go off alone, my boys; it's too much of an exposure."
"Nonsense."
"I have a great mind to go too."
"No, no, you had better stay to hold our place of retreat. We'll come back, you know."
"Very well, then."
The Senator sat himself down again, and Buttons and Dick vanished among the trees. An hour passed; the three in the barricade began to feel uneasy; the prisoners were asleep and snoring.
"Hang it," cried the Senator, "I wish I had gone with them!"
"Never fear," said the Doctor, "they are too nimble to be caught just yet. If they had been caught you'd have heard a little firing."
At that very moment the loud report of a rifle burst through the air, followed by a second; upon which a whole volley poured out. The three started to their feet.
"They are found!" cried the Senator. "It's about a mile away. Be ready."
Mr. Figgs had two rifles by his side, and sat looking at the distance with knitted brows. He had received some terrific bruises in the late mêlée, but was prepared to fight till he died. He had said but little through the day. He was not talkative. His courage was of a quiet order. He felt the solemnity of the occasion. It was a little different from sitting at the head of a Board of bank directors, or shaving notes in a private office. At the end of about ten minutes there was a crackling among the bushes. Buttons and Dick came tumbling down into the road.
"Get ready! Quick. They're here!"
"All ready."
"All loaded?"
"Yes."
"We saw them away down the road, behind a grove of trees. We couldn't resist, and so fired at them. The whole band leaped up raving, and saw us, and fired. They then set off up the road to this place, thinking that we are divided. They're only a few rods away."
"How many are there of them?"
"Fourteen."
"They must have got some more. There were only ten able-bodied, unwounded men when they left."
"Less," said the Doctor; "my pistol--"
"H'st!"
At this moment they heard the noise of footsteps. A band of armed men came in sight. Halting cautiously, they examined the barricade. Bang! It was the Doctor's revolver. Down went one fellow, yelling. The rest were frantic. Like fools, they made a rush at the barricade.
Bang! a second shot, another wounded. A volley was the answer. Like fools, the brigands fired against the barricade. No damage was done. The barricade was too strong.
The answer to this was a withering volley from the Americans. The bandits reeled, staggered, fell back, shrieking, groaning, and cursing. Two men lay dead on the road. The others took refuge in the woods.
For two hours an incessant fire was kept up between the bandits in the woods and the Americans in their retreat. No damage was done on either side.
"Those fellows try so hard they almost deserve to lick us," said the Senator dryly.
Suddenly there came from afar the piercing blast of a trumpet.
"Hark!" cried Buttons.
Again.
A cavalry trumpet!
"They are horsemen!" cried Dick, who was holding his ear to the ground; and then added:
"[Transcriber's Note: Greek Transliteration] ippon m okupodon amphi ktupos ouata ballei [/end Greek]."
"Hey?" cried the Senator; "water barley?"
Again the sound. A dead silence. All listening.
And now the tramp of horses was plainly heard. The firing had ceased altogether since the first blast of the trumpet. The bandits disappeared. The horsemen drew nearer, and were evidently quite numerous. At last they burst upon the scene, and the little garrison greeted them with a wild hurrah. They were French dragoons, about thirty in number. Prominent among them was Pietro, who at first stared wildly around, and then, seeing the Americans, gave a cry of joy.
The travellers now came out into the road, and quick and hurried greetings were interchanged. The commander of the troop, learning that the bandits had just left, sent off two-thirds of his men in pursuit, and remained with the rest behind.