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.At a command, the head of the wriggling column swung to the left and began tognaw its way through thicker un-derbrush.In the evening they came to the topof a small, round hill, and there below them was Panama laved in the goldenlight of the western sun.Each man searched his neighbors face to be assuredthat this was not his own personal hallucination.Page 62ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlOne pirate moved to the hill s edge.He stopped still and shouted crazily, andthen his companions saw him running down the hill, dragging at his sword as heran.A herd of cattle was feeding in the hollow below them, left there by someblundering Spaniard.In a moment the whole fourteen hundred men werestampeding down the hill.They killed the cows with their swords; they lungedand slashed at the frightened animals.Soon, very soon, the blood was drippingdown the beards of the famished men, the red drops falling on their shirts.During that night they gorged themselves into unconsciousness.While the dark was down, the pirate scouts were rang-ing over the plain likewerewolves; they slipped to the walls and counted the soldiers before thetown.And early in the morning, Captain Morgan aroused his men and called themtogether to give them the orders for the day s fight.Henry Morgan had come toknow the buccaneering soul.He lifted out the brains of his men and moldedthem for battle.He spoke to their fears. It is nine days journey back to the river mouth where the ships lie ninedays, and no food at all.You could not get to the ships even if you wanted torun away.And here is Panama.While you were sleeping like hogs, the scoutswere busy.Before this city, four thousand soldiers are drawn up, with wingsof cavalry.These are not coun-trymen with guns and knives, but drilledsoldiers in red coats.This is not all.There are bulls to be loosed againstyou against you cattle hunters. A laugh followed his last words.Many ofthese men had lived in the jungle and had made their livelihood with huntingwild cattle.The captain rubbed their avarice: Gold and jewels past hope of counting are in the city.Every man of you willbe rich if we succeed.Their hunger: Think of the roasted meats, the barrels of wine in the cellars, the spicedpuddings.Imagine them!Their lust: Women slaves there are in the city, and thousands of other women, God knows!Your difficulty will be only in judging which to choose from the multitudethat will fall to us.These are not grubby field women, but great ladies wholie in silken beds.How will your skins feel in beds like those, do yousuppose?And last, because he knew them very well, he raised the standard of theirvanity. The names of those who take part in this fight will climb the stairs ofhistory.This is no pillage, but glorious war.Imagine to yourselves thepeople of Tortuga pointing to you and saying,  That man was in the fight atPanama.That man is a hero, and rich. Think how the women of Goaves will runafter you when you go home again.There is the Cup of Gold before you.Willyou run away? Many will die in the field today, but those who remain willcarry golden Panama home in their pockets.A hoarse cheer arose.The French kissed their hands to Henry Morgan; theCaribs chattered and rolled their eyes.The gourmand Zeerovers looked dully atthe white city. One thing more, said the captain. The troops will be drawn up in a line, ifI know these Spanish captains.They like to make as great a show as possible.Your orders are to fire at their center, all of you; and when that center isweakened, then charge and split them.They moved out on the plain, a dense cloud of men.Two hundred marksmen walkedin advance, while the rest were grouped behind.Now Don Juan, the Governor of Panama, stood with his neat army, a long line offoot soldiers in companies of two files.He looked at the rough formation ofthe enemy with contempt.Almost gaily he signaled for the first advance.The Spanish cavalry swung out, wheeling and whirling across the plain.Nowthey formed a V, and now a hollow square.Moving at a fast trot, they wentthrough all the intricate evolutions of a review; they made triangles, T s.InPage 63ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlone moment every sword glanced in the sunlight, then was made to disappear bytwisting wrists, and then to flash again.Don Juan groaned with admiration. Look at them, my friends; look at Rodriguez, my be-loved captain.Ah,Rodriguez! is it really I who have taught you these things? Can it be thatthis is the Rodriguez I held in my arms a little time ago? He was a baby then,but now he is a man and a hero.See the line, the sureness, the precision.SeeRodriguez with his troop, my friends.How may these beasts of buccaneersovercome horse-men like mine?Rodriguez, at the head of his troop, seemed to hear the Governor s praise.Hisshoulders stiffened.He rose in his stirrups and gave the signal for thecharge.The bugles sang excitedly.The hooves roared with a hollow rollingsound over the turf.Their coming was like a red wave with a silver crest.Rodriguez turned in his saddle and looked proudly at the hurtling troop behindhim, follow-ing his orders as though they were the multimembers of one greatbody governed by his brain.Every saber was lined along a horse s neck.Rodriguez turned again to look once more at his lovely Panama before theshock.And then the whole troop rode headlong into a marsh.They knew it wasthere, but in the enthusiasm of the moment, in the excitement of theirfigures, they had forgotten about it.In a second the horse of Panama was abroken jumble of men and fallen beasts.They were flies caught in a greenflypaper.Don Juan looked dazedly at the pile of writhing, man-gled bodies out on theplain, and then he burst into sobs like a child who has seen his bright toybroken in the road.The Governor did not know what to do.His brain was heavywith a red sorrow.He turned about and started plodding homeward.He would goand hear a mass in the Cathedral, he thought.The Spanish staff had grown frantic.Red and gold uni-forms were rushing aboutin every direction.Every officer shouted commands at the top of his voice.The young lieutenant who had brought up the cattle finally made himself heard. Turn loose the bulls the bulls, he cried, over and over, until the otherswere shouting it also.The Indians who held the bulls tore out the nose ringsand began prodding the great beasts forward with their goads.Slow-ly the herdmoved out across the plain.Then a red mon-ster broke into a slow run, andimmediately the whole band was running. They will trample these robbers into the grass, said a Spanish officerwisely. Where they pass, we shall find buttons, pieces of weapons nothingmore on the bloody ground.The bulls galloped slowly toward the rough line of the buccaneers.Suddenlythe two hundred marksmen knelt arid fired fired quickly, like men huntinggame.A kick-ing, bellowing wall seemed to rise up in the path of the runninganimals.Those of the herd that were not crippled halted in their tracks,sniffed the blood, milled, and then stampeded in terror back on the Spanishranks.The officer was right.Where they passed, nothing re-mained exceptbuttons and broken weapons and bloody turf.In the horror of the stampede the buccaneers had charged.Now they dashed intothe hole the bulls had made, and drove the split defenders left and right.There were a few war cries, but these were continental soldiers.They couldnot understand this kind of fighting.These terrible vagrants laughed andkilled men with both of their hands [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]