CHAPTER IV

AN ENGLISH GRINGO

"We will make the most of our time while the men are absent," said

Mr. Blunt, as he and Dudley sat outside the door of the principal

building of the rancho on the night of their arrival. "As you see, I

have a native servant here, who does the cooking and house duties for

me. He is a faithful fellow and has been in my employ for many

years; in fact, he has been at this special work ever since an Indian

bullet lamed him and made him unable to mount a horse. He will not

see you during the day, while the twenty odd men I have at the rancho

will not put in an appearance for many days, as they are out branding

the cattle."

"So that I shall have some time to look about me and pick up my

duties," suddenly exclaimed Dudley, stretching his legs out and

rubbing the back of his knees. Two days in the saddle had stiffened

his limbs, and the unaccustomed exercise had chafed the skin from his

legs. He felt sore and uncomfortable, and many a time on this last

day he would have dismounted had he not been determined to master his

horse and do exactly what Mr. Blunt did.

"Stiff and sore?" asked his employer with a laugh. "Yes, I have seen

that. You managed to get across your horse at the landing stage in a

very creditable manner. Not that you deceived the gauchos. They are

too knowing for that. They saw, of course, that you had been in a

saddle before. But even if they had been children they would have

guessed that you had had very little practice. You see, once a

horseman always one. Nearly six months later I return to this

country and fall into its ways as if I had been away for only a day.

My saddle comes as easy to me as a chair does to you, no doubt. My

feet find the stirrups at once, and if there were need I could ride

without them. Watch the gauchos when they return with our pack

animals. They are amongst the finest horsemen. I have known, and

there are few of the rough beasts that we capture from the pampas

that they cannot ride after some little difficulty has been got over.

They scarcely touch the stirrup, but place a hand on the neck of the

beast and vault into the saddle. That's what I want you to practise,

Dudley. The men will hardly reach here for a week, for they have a

large amount of stuff to bring, and will come very slowly. Take your

horse at dawn and make a wide circle round the rancho. Don't be

afraid of riding off the place, for the land for fifteen miles round

here belongs to me, though there is not a fence or a boundary stone

to show where the property comes to an end. Get some food from

Francia, the cook, take a shotgun with you, and spend the whole day

in the saddle. Yes, yes, I know that you are sore," he went on,

indulging in another smile at Dudley's expense, as the latter stroked

his knees again. "I will give you something which will harden the

skin, and to-morrow night you will be quite comfortable. Now, lad,

how do you think you will like the life?"

"Immensely!" came the prompt reply. "Of course I am more or less

ignorant of it at present, and perhaps I ought to have kept my

opinion till I have seen and experienced more. But who could not

like this open-air existence. It is so warm out on these plains, so,

so----"

"Exhilarating," suggested Mr. Blunt. "Yes, a man feels fit and keen

here. The air is a tonic to those who are weaklings when they come

to the pampas, and many a delicate man have I seen get strong and

healthy after a few months. Look at the sky! That is the sort of

ceiling we have at night for the greater part of the year. The stars

are brilliant, and that crescent of the moon makes the place almost

as light as during the day."

Dudley stretched a little farther out in the bent-wood chair in which

he was seated, and stared up at the glittering sky above, admiring

the myriad stars, and the gleaming crescent floating in the heavens.

The air was beautifully warm and balmy, so much so that a man might

sleep out in the open without a covering and still not risk catching

a chill. A soft breeze fanned his cheek and brought with it the

sweet scent of the trees which grew thickly near the rancho. He

could see their tops swaying gently in the moon rays, and as he

glanced about him he could distinguish the low roof of the rancho,

the building which had been Mr. Blunt's home for many years. It was

a long, straggling affair, with timber sides, and a shingle roof, and

so many doors that Dudley felt bewildered. Some two hundred yards

from it was another building, of smaller proportions, while to the

left of that was a fenced enclosure, surrounded by huge posts and

beams.

"The corral," explained Mr. Blunt. "That is where we rope in our

wild cattle and horses, and where the most fractious of the latter

are trained to take a saddle. You will see all that work in good

time. I notice that the doors of the house amuse you."

They were seated in their chairs some thirty yards from the building,

and beneath a clump of trees at the foot of which was a shallow well,

where the house supply was obtained. Dudley had, indeed, noticed the

fact to which his employer referred, and waited for an explanation.

"They are put in with a purpose," said Mr. Blunt. "When I offered to

bring you here I told you that there were certain drawbacks. Well,

Indians and an ever-threatening raid are amongst those drawbacks.

Now, supposing the Indians appeared at this moment, you and I should

run for the nearest door, which happens to be the one in general use.

We should bolt and bar it once we were in, and then our guns would

speak from the openings left for that special purpose. But our men

are still out on the rancho, and unless they were warned of the

coming of the Indians they would be slaughtered one by one, for they

are often widely separated. I should warn them. I have an old

cannon mounted on the roof, and Francia would fire it. The noise

would certainly reach the ears of the gauchos, and would tell them

that there was danger. They would collect together, gallop for the

rancho, and make a rush."

"While you would throw open the door or doors nearest to them, and

fire on the Indians," interrupted Dudley.

"Precisely! There might be a hundred and more of these enemies, for

they hunt in large parties, and our sole aim would be to get the

whole of our force together. The horses and the cattle we should

have to leave, and I have found by a former experience that they act

as an excellent counter attraction. The Indians raid us for our

horses and cattle, and also to kill us if possible. If they fail to

kill us, and see that to capture us they must fight, they will take

the easier course and make off with the cattle. To drive them they

have to separate a little, and that is the time for us to retaliate.

We follow, and on one occasion we succeeded in saving our beasts and

in driving the enemy away.

"Now we'll turn in. To-morrow you take your horse as I have

directed, and don't forget; make the most of the week before you."

He rose from his chair, stretched and yawned, and led the way to the

house. A solitary candle was spluttering in the one big room of

which the place consisted, and it showed two pallets, constructed of

wide strips of canvas nailed to long wooden trestles. Mr. Blunt

clambered on to one, drew a blanket over him, placed a revolver

beneath his pillow, and nodded good night. Dudley followed his

actions, blew out the candle, and settled himself to sleep. But for

a long while he remained awake, listening to the deep breathing of

his friend, and to the long, low whimpering of a biscacha, a species

of rodent which infests the pampas in certain parts. Then he, too,

fell asleep and continued in blissful unconsciousness till the first

faint streak of light stole into the room.

"Time to water and groom the horses," cried Mr. Blunt, leaping from

his pallet and touching Dudley. "Come now, how is the stiffness?

What a grand morning it is! Why it makes one glad to be alive."

Dudley wakened with a start, threw his blanket from him, and sat up,

rubbing his eyes. Then he rose suddenly and leaped to the ground,

only to give a groan, and smile somewhat lamely at his friend.

"My word! Stiff!" he exclaimed dismally. "I can hardly move. I

thought that a good night's sleep and rest would put matters right.

I am worse than I was yesterday."

"And will be till I take you in hand. Strip off those things, my

lad, and hop along over to the well. There is a pump there and a

tub. Have a thorough good splash, and rub yourself down till your

skin is on fire. Then I'll give you a little of my own special

embrocation. Come, hustle!"

Mr. Blunt smiled at Dudley as he bustled him into one corner of the

room and watched him remove his clothing. Then, tossing him a rough

towel, he conducted him to the well for all the world as if he were

his jailer. Dudley hobbled across the green space which intervened,

gripped the handle of the pump, and set to work with a will. He

meant to show his friend that even if he were stiff and sore he had

still some energy. But he wondered whether he would, after all Mr.

Blunt had said, be fit to ride that day, or move away from the house.

"My hips are so stiff and sore that I cannot bend them, while my

knees feel too weak to carry my weight," he said to himself. "And my

back, oh!"

"Get into the tub and sit down, my lad. That's right! Makes you

gasp a little! The water comes from a spring, you see, and is

precious cold. Put your head under the spout and let it pour right

over you."

Mr. Blunt waved to the tub, saw Dudley clamber stiffly into it and

crouch as low as possible, and then, with rapid movement of one of

his muscular arms, for his injured limb was not yet quite recovered,

sent a stream of ice-cold water gushing from the spout over Dudley's

quivering body. No wonder that he gasped! For a moment he felt as

if he could not endure it, and then he began to enjoy the sensation.

The cold water wakened him effectively. He pushed his head still

farther under the spout, and then gradually let the water pour over

his back. A minute later he was splashing himself all over and

rubbing vigorously at his limbs.

"Makes you feel better?" demanded Mr. Blunt with a grim smile. "Ah,

thought it would! Hop out now and I'll give you a rub down. Then

you can take a run round the rancho and afterwards have the

embrocation applied. There, out you come! One has only to watch you

to see that you are more active already. I'm not at all surprised to

find you so stiff and sore, for you must remember that we have ridden

fairly hard and fast, while you had not been in a saddle for many a

long month."

"And then for only a matter of an hour at a time," answered Dudley,

spluttering as the water ran from his face. "That beast I rode

yesterday is a beauty, and quiet enough, but he seemed to be

fretting, and kept jolting me about."

"He is young and raw in some ways, though sedate enough," came the

answer. "You will have him again to-day, and there is nothing to

prevent your putting him to the gallop. Practise mounting quickly,

and when you get a little more accustomed to the saddle, put him at a

jump. Now, how's that?"

It was no gentle hand which applied the towel to Dudley's shoulders,

and very soon he was in a furious heat from head to foot. The sudden

immersion, and the friction afterwards, had quickened his

circulation, and already the greater part of his stiffness was gone.

He tied the towel round his waist, and set off at a rapid pace round

the rancho. Ten minutes later the embrocation had been applied and

he was fully dressed again.

"Now for the horses," said Mr. Blunt. "That is a duty which you must

never neglect, for it may happen that your life may depend on your

horse. Every gaucho looks after his own animals, and I do the same,

watering them at dawn, grooming and then feeding. Your beast gets to

know you thoroughly well, till he will almost understand the words

you say to him. Here we are. The animals live at this end of the

house, so as to be under our guns. There is a trough near the well,

and I generally do the grooming there, for it is out in the sun."

Everything was new to Dudley, for the reader must remember that he

had lived for the most part in a town. He followed Mr. Blunt to the

stable, took the brush which was given him and a wisp of straw, and

then went up to his horse. The animal knew him at once and whinnied.

Dudley patted its neck, and taking the beast by a lock of its mane

led it out to the well, where he let it drink peacefully till it was

satisfied.

"Now groom him thoroughly," said Mr. Blunt, "and afterwards give him

his feed. And just remember another point. You like to have your

breakfast in peace, I have no doubt, and so does a horse. Leave him

to enjoy it. It upsets his digestion if he is constantly interfered

with while eating, and if you would have him always fit, see that he

has his feed-times to himself, and a reasonable space afterwards

before you make use of him. There, the grooming's done, and we can

take them back."

An hour later Dudley lifted his native saddle on to his head and went

to the stable. His horse gave another whinny as he appeared, and

moved a step towards him, standing perfectly still as he placed the

bit in its mouth and the saddle on its back. Then our hero slung his

shotgun over his shoulder, led the horse out, and sprang into the

saddle, feeling wonderfully agile and supple now. A minute later he

was galloping at full pace away over the pampas, his broad-brimmed

hat flapping in the wind, and the trimmings of his leggings trailing

out beside him.

"Sits fairly well," exclaimed Mr. Blunt critically, as he watched his

departure. "There is a little too much daylight showing between him

and the saddle, but that is a fault which he will rectify. That lad

means to be a rider. If I make no mistake he has made up his mind to

be as good at his work as any of the gauchos."

Dudley had, in fact, firmly determined to do his utmost to please his

master and gain the good opinion of the gauchos. After a few

minutes' fast galloping he began to feel quite at home in the saddle;

he sat lower and less of that daylight of which Mr. Blunt had

complained showed as he rushed along. He took a steady pull at his

reins, and spoke softly to his horse.

"Steady, boy! Take it easy for a little. I want to practise that

mounting and dismounting."

Pulling the animal up short, he slung his gun still higher, so that

it should be quite out of the way, and for an hour he practised

vaulting into his saddle, till he could reach it without putting foot

to stirrup. Then he became more ambitious, walking his horse and

endeavoring to gain his seat without stopping him.

"Not so easy as I thought," he said to himself. "But still a thing I

must do, for it might happen that I should be chased by some of the

Indians, and every second would be of importance. Another thing I

must learn. I must manage to mount from the off side as easily as I

can from this. Yes, I remember Mr. Blunt telling me that every

gaucho could do that."

Two hours later he felt thoroughly tired with his exertions, and,

seeing a clump of trees, rode towards it, dismounted, and slackened

the girths.

"Time for something to eat," he thought. "I must be five miles from

the rancho now, and this afternoon I will trot farther out. If I do

twenty miles in all I shall have had a fair day, and shall have

gained some idea of the country."

Following out this plan, he rested himself and the horse for a full

hour, and then trotted across the pampas, his beast taking him along

at a gentle amble, which is so comfortable for the rider when a great

distance has to be covered, and which can be kept up by a good horse

for two or three hours at a stretch. About four in the afternoon he

turned his face towards the rancho, and when within four miles set

his beast at a gallop. The pace increased as horse and rider entered

into the excitement of the movement, and very soon they were sweeping

over the pampas. Suddenly an object ahead attracted Dudley's

attention and he looked anxiously at it, uncertain of its nature at

that distance. But in a few seconds the object was distinctly

visible, and to his dismay he found himself bearing down upon a long,

low corral, which cut directly across his path.

"Steady! Whoa!" he cried, sitting well back and pulling at his

reins. But his mount on this occasion was somewhat out of hand. The

sharp gallop, and the knowledge that its stable was near at hand, had

fired its blood and made it unheedful of the bit. Its neck was

stretched to its fullest extent, its teeth were closed firmly on the

bit, while its eye seemed to see only the rolling pampas, the

brown-green grass swaying in all directions.

"Steady!" shouted Dudley again, pressing his stirrups forward and

leaning far back to put all his weight and strength into the pull.

Then, realizing that nothing would stop the mad flight of the beast,

he gathered his reins well into both hands, gripped firmly with his

knees, and steered as well as he was able for what appeared to be the

lowest portion of the long corral rails extending across his front.

To turn the horse more than a few inches either way was hopeless, for

he had already made one mighty attempt to swerve to the right and

gallop along parallel with the obstruction.

In a flash they were within twenty feet of the rail, and only then

did the animal observe what was before him. Dudley felt it hesitate

in its stride, and, taking instant advantage of the fact, he pulled

the beast in a little, though to bring it to a halt was impossible.

Then his voice rang out again, encouraging the horse.

"Steady, boy!" he cried. "Get yourself together. Up! Over!"

Nobly did the gallant beast respond. Though the rail was at least

five feet in height, it gathered its legs together, steadied its

stride, and then, rising to the obstruction, flew over it like a

bird, alighting with a thud on the far side, a thud which, to an

unaccustomed rider like Dudley, almost proved disastrous. He was

jerked forward on to the animal's neck, but recovered himself with an

effort and once more gripped his reins. But still there was no

stopping that mad flight. His mount seemed to gather fresh impetus

now that it had overcome the rails, and it tore across the corral.

Its eye fixed itself on the far rail, it changed step some fifteen

paces from it, and once again, as Dudley sang out to encourage it,

the beast rose for the jump. But, alas! on this occasion the rail

was higher. Its hoofs fouled the top, and in a second horse and man

went headlong. Dudley was far away ahead, having alighted on his

back, after having turned a complete somersault, while the horse fell

on its side, rolled, and came to a halt with its feet lashing the air.

[Illustration: "ITS HOOFS FOULED THE TOP, AND IN A SECOND HORSE AND

MAN WENT HEADLONG"]

To say that Dudley was shaken was to express the matter mildly. The

breath was jarred out of his body, and for a minute perhaps he lay on

the ground, his head swimming, and his senses somewhat scattered,

while he gasped till his face assumed a purple hue. Then his breath

came again, and with it his dogged spirit. He sprang to his feet and

ran across to the horse, which was now lying on its side, scared and

winded by the fall. Dudley took it by the ring of its bit and

encouraged it to rise.

"Neither of us hurt, old man," he cried joyfully, as he walked the

beast to and fro and noticed that it was not lame. "We were getting

along too well together, and you seemed to think that you had a fine

rider on your back. But we won't be beaten. We'll wait till you

have your wind again, and then we'll have another go."

He patted the beast's neck, and then saw to the girths, which had

slipped far back. Leaving the animal to stand alone, he slipped his

gun from his shoulder and carefully examined it.

"Not even dented! That's another bit of luck, for it is hard to

believe that it could have escaped. And, when one comes to think of

it, it is as difficult to see how we both escaped breaking our necks.

Lucky for me that I was thrown so far, for if I had struck close to

him he might have fallen on me, and then there would have been an end

to my prospects. I'll give him ten minutes more, and then we'll

tackle the thing again."

He slipped the sling of the gun over one of the posts which held up

the rails of the corral, and sauntered up and down, inspecting the

rails somewhat grimly. There was a determined look on his sun-tanned

face, a look which told that come what might he was going to

persevere. The heavy tumble he had experienced had scared him not a

little, and had shaken him considerably. Some would have considered

it foolhardy for him to attempt the jump again, while others would

have excused a second attempt, considering the narrow escape he had

had. But Dudley was out there to conquer difficulties. He had a

task to learn, and to hesitate now, to cry off because of a tumble,

was not the way in which to overcome those difficulties. He hitched

his belt in another hole, crammed his hat well down on his head, and

walked steadily up to his horse.

"We're going to have another go, old boy," he said, as he patted the

neck. "We'll take it steadily this time, for you want little run for

the jump. Now, up we go!"

He himself was surprised at the ease with which he reached the

saddle. Without touching the stirrup he vaulted into his seat, and

after the practice he had had his toes fell of themselves into the

stirrups. He gathered up his reins, patted the neck again, and

walked his horse up to the rails to let it have a good look. Then he

turned about, till they were thirty paces away, and with a touch of

knee and rein he swung the beast round. There was no need to tell

the gallant animal what was wanted. Dudley felt it bound forward.

It took the bit in its teeth, gathered its feet beneath it, and

hopped over the rails as if they had been a foot in height only,

Dudley sitting well down all the time. A minute later they faced

round again, and this time, with a leap which left a foot of light

between its heels and the rail, the horse sailed over the

obstruction, animal and rider alighting together, and without a jar,

on the outside of the corral. Dudley slipped out of his saddle,

slung his gun across his shoulders, and vaulted again into the

saddle. Not till then did he observe that a horseman had ridden up.

It was Mr. Blunt, looking a splendid figure as he sat in his saddle.

There was a look of pleasure on his face, and he rode right up to

Dudley's side.

"Hurt?" he asked curtly. "No bones broken? Then you are lucky. I

saw everything. I could have shouted as you rode at the corral, but

I knew that if I did so the beast you rode might have been startled,

and perhaps might have changed step at the jump. That would have

meant perhaps a worse fall. You were determined to do that jump,

lad?"

"Yes, sir, I'd rather have faced twenty falls than have been beaten,"

answered Dudley earnestly.

"Then you are the sort of help I want," came the swift answer. "A

gaucho would think nothing of such a tumble, for the reason that he

has ridden since he was a child, and has been thrown so often that he

knows how to fall. In nine cases out of ten, if thrown as you were,

he would have landed on his feet instead of on his back. And he

would have taken his beast over the jump again, promptly and without

hesitation. The gaucho is like you, lad, he doesn't like to be

beaten. Now let us ride home together, while you tell me what you

have been doing and what you think of the rancho."

They turned their faces to the dwelling, now plainly seen in the

distance, for owing to the general flatness of the country objects

were in view a long distance away. And as they rode Dudley recounted

how he had practised mounting and dismounting.

"Good!" said Mr. Blunt. "I saw how you hopped into the saddle just

now, and I noticed some improvement. But you must do better. A

gaucho could mount his horse while the beast was cantering, and he

can lean from his saddle so as to pick a scarf from the ground while

going at a gallop. But all in time. Patience will help you to

conquer everything. Tomorrow we will go out together, and it would

be as well to bring your revolver and ammunition. We will have a

little practice."

When a week had passed, Dudley himself was pleased with his progress.

He now sat his horse as if he felt thoroughly at home, could steer

him with certainty over the roughest country, and was not afraid of

the biggest jumps. Then, too, he had mounted another of the beasts

in the stable, a rough, ill-tempered animal, and had managed to cling

to his seat. In short, he was progressing, and Mr. Blunt, who

watched him closely, congratulated himself that he had a young fellow

with him who would quickly prove of great value.

By then Pietro and the gauchos who had been left to bring up the

stores arrived; and the test which one of the number had proposed was

remembered.

"I repeat, Pietro," said the ill-favored individual who had scowled

at our hero, "I say that this gringo, who clambered into his saddle

as if into a bed, will not be able to hit the pith ball of a bolas at

thirty paces. A revolver is the weapon, and if he fails, you give me

your rifle. If he flukes the shot, then I make you a present of

mine, and lucky you will be, for it is a grand weapon."

"_Buenos_, the gun is mine," came the laughing answer, an answer

which caused the gaucho to grind his teeth. "Giono, I am a judge of

people, and I back this gringo. He is not so green as you think, and

he will hit the ball. I will add something more."

"Then you will lose. No, Pietro, I am an honest man and will not rob

you. Let him win the rifle for you. Pah! Not green, do you say?

That is his manner. These English stamp about as if the world were

theirs and they the best on it."

He went off to his quarters in an evil mood, casting a scowling

glance at Dudley as he passed him.

Roughriders of the Pampas: A Tale of Ranch Life in South America · 第 4 / 20 章