OUT ON THE RANCHO
Giono was thoroughly beaten on his own ground, and cringed as Mr.
Blunt still directed his revolver at him. The gaucho was by no means
wanting in courage, for he had inherited that as a gift natural to
all these wild men of the pampas. But he could not face that muzzle,
nor the smiles and nudges of his comrades. He dropped his own weapon
with an oath, scowled at Dudley, and turned from the group. They saw
him swing away towards the back of the house, and presently he
appeared again mounted on a beautiful animal, which he reined back
with iron fingers till he was out of range of the pistol. Then he
gave his temper full license.
"Listen, you, my late employer," he roared, shaking a quivering fist
at Mr. Blunt. "Listen, you, I say. You shall regret your action. I
will make you call the day an evil one when you brought that English
cub with you, and I give you warning. Giono does not knuckle down to
men such as you are. I will shoot you and the pup you have engaged
when the first chance comes."
He shook his fist again, scowling at Mr. Blunt and Dudley, then he
dug the huge rowels of his cruel spurs into the flanks of his beast,
swung him round with a powerful wrench of the arm, and went off at a
mad gallop, the heels of the poor animal kicking dust and earth far
up behind it.
"I expected every word," said Mr. Blunt quietly. "I could have told
beforehand what that gentleman was about to say. Threats do no
damage, Dudley, but with a ruffian such as he is they put one on
one's guard. My men, you will break into threes, take your arms, and
follow that late comrade of yours till you have seen him off the
rancho. After to-day the man who first catches sight of him on the
place has my authority to shoot him instantly."
He waved his hand to the men and watched as they ran to the stable,
and very soon they were streaming away in threes, each little party
separating and galloping in the wake of Giono.
"He will not rest till he has put miles between himself and our
friends," said Mr. Blunt when they were gone. "We shall see no more
of him, I hope; but don't forget his warning, my lad. This is a
rough country, we are out of reach of police and soldiers, and a
ruffian has to be put down by those who are disposed to live a decent
life. If you ever see him, do as I have commanded the men. Don't
hesitate, for if you do you will have no second chance. He will see
well to that.
"Now we will make a round of the rancho. It is some time since I saw
the cattle, and it is always well for an owner to inspect the work of
his men. Get Francia to put up some food for us, bring your gun and
your rifle, and don't forget a blanket and a poncho."
They went to the house to make their preparations, and within a
little while the two were cantering away, a saddle bag well filled
with food slung to each saddle, a canvas sack overflowing with water
to balance it on the far side, and behind the cantle a mound composed
of a thick blanket and the inevitable poncho. Dudley had by now
ridden all over the rancho, and had obtained some insight into the
work the gauchos performed. He had also received the impression that
Mr. Blunt must be a prosperous farmer or grazier, for none of the
land was tilled, and numerous herds of cattle pointed to his wealth.
"There are some fifteen thousand beasts," was the answer to his
enquiry on that point, "and for six weeks now the gauchos have been
busy branding the calves. Of course we make no attempt to keep stray
animals from making out of the rancho, for that would be a hopeless
task. Certain men are always stationed on the borders, and if they
see a herd on the point of leaving they turn them back. The single
ones, and occasionally a score or more of beasts, wander at night,
when they have been disturbed by some unusual noise, and they, of
course, are lost. Perhaps they stray back again, or others come from
the neighboring rancho. In any case such a loss is nothing. There
is always a small exchange of beasts going on at the borders."
"But supposing branded animals stray?" asked Dudley. "What happens
to them?"
"That depends on the neighbors who find them," was the answer. "Due
west of us there is merely open pampas, with no living owner, and
there I keep a very particular watch, for Indians hold the country.
Elsewhere branded beasts which wander are driven back when it is
convenient, while my gauchos do the same with neighbors' animals. In
the end we are all satisfied, and of course the knowledge that beasts
will stray makes us extra careful about the branding. I am making
for the far western corner of the rancho, where there is a big herd
surrounded by gauchos, and where branding is now going on as fast as
possible. You will see something to open your eyes."
The sight which Dudley saw when late that evening they arrived on the
western border of the rancho was indeed a novel and most interesting
one. There were some fifty gauchos in all, widely separated, and
broken up into twos. Of these groups of two, one man was always
mounted, while at the hour at which they arrived the gaucho off duty
for the time had strayed from his comrade to those nearest at hand,
and had now squatted over a fire of thistle tops, smoking and eating.
"That is how the herd is watched," explained Mr. Blunt. "The men
must have rest, for night and day the watch must be kept. So two of
them take turn and turn about, and when one is off duty getting a
rest and food, or a sleep, his horse is enjoying the same privileges.
We will rest here, and I will show you how to bivouac for the night.
Hop off your mount, and strip saddle and bridle from it. That's the
way. Now take the rope attached to the halter, and hobble its fore
legs as I have already shown you how to do."
Dudley slid from his saddle in a manner which showed that he was used
to the work, and in a very few seconds had stripped the beast of all
its gear save the head stall, the rope attached to which was used for
hobbling. Then he gave the horse a vigorous smack on the flank, and
sent it away to graze and rest till morning.
"Now put your saddle up on the cantle. So! That's the way. It will
not fall over easily, and you will see that the pads which protect
the horse's back from chafing are well exposed, and have every chance
to dry, for in this climate they are nearly always moist after a
ride. Now your poncho goes into the hollow between the pads and
flaps, your head finds it a wonderfully comfortable pillow, while the
blanket over all makes things snug and warm for the night."
To show him how it was done, Mr. Blunt placed his own saddle in
position, and threw himself down on the ground, drawing his blanket
about him, and placing his head on the poncho between the flaps of
the saddle.
"Your saddle keeps the wind away on a breezy night," he explained,
"and is close at hand in case you happen to want it. If it rains, as
is not often the case, you hang the blanket over the cantle, and
there you are, under a tent which will keep you fairly dry. Now,
Dudley, skip along and gather some thistle tops. There is little
wood in these parts, and so one has to find a substitute. Look at
the men. I rather fancy Pietro and his comrades have been talking."
That, in fact, was the case, and as the two were seen cantering up
towards the herd of cattle and their guards, quite a number of the
men made their way forward to meet them. They nodded to their
master, and looked on critically as our herb slipped from his saddle.
"As if he'd done it before," said one, a big fellow with long black
hair and a melancholy way about him. "Fresh and young, comrades, and
new to the pampas. You can see he does not mind being told how
things are done. What was the story Pietro was telling?"
A comrade repeated it, and at once the gaucho strode up to the young
Englishman as he was gathering thistle tops. When Dudley glanced up,
there was the gaucho, still with the same melancholy air, his head
hanging forward, and one huge brown palm stretched in front. He
shook it, and, interpreting the signal, Dudley stepped up, gripped
the strong fingers, and shook them with vigor.
"We're friends, I see," he said quietly, for he seemed to feel at
once that the big gaucho wished to be pleasant. "It's kind of you to
come."
"I'm foreman out here, and I thought I'd like to show you that all
are not like Giono. Señor, you are welcome! All my comrades are
glad to see you. I bear a message from them. They ask you to repeat
the shot you made this morning."
"I'll try," was the ready answer. "When it is light enough
to-morrow, I'll do my best to please you."
They nodded to one another, and our hero returned to his employer
with a bundle of thistle tops under his arm. In a few seconds the
flames were shooting up, and in a little while the two were seated by
them, each with a ramrod in his hand, and a fine steak of deer flesh
on the far end. It was all so new to Dudley, and he found this
open-air life most fascinating. He could see now why Mr. Blunt loved
it, why he declared that he was free out on the pampas, and why a man
could be a man when living such a life.
"Even the food we cook out here is sweeter to me," exclaimed Mr.
Blunt, as they chatted after their meal. "I would not change the
dinner we prepare for the daintiest repast to be had in London or in
Paris. As to the sleeping accommodation, well, you yourself will
appreciate the difference when once we get back to the house. Here
one breathes pure air, the invigorating breath of the pampas. A
house stifles me at first. I feel as if the ceiling were falling on
to me."
Half an hour later they turned in, and Dudley found that his
unaccustomed bed was more than comfortable. On Mr. Blunt's advice he
kicked a hollow in the ground to accommodate his hips, and on
stretching himself out, and pulling the blanket over him, he found
that he had a couch at which the most fastidious could not have
grumbled. On either side of his head were the flaps of his saddle,
but up above there was nothing to shut him in, and for a while he
stared up at the brilliant stars, while he listened to the strange
sounds of the pampas. Now and again there was a low call from one
watching gaucho to another, and then perhaps the deep lowing of
cattle. Sometimes the earth trembled for a few seconds with the
stamping of a hundred feet, and then all was silent, save for the
chirrup of the crickets. He fell into a deep sleep, and only stirred
when the sun shone in his eyes in the early morning. Mr. Blunt was
already afoot, tending to the kettle steaming over the fire, while at
various points, around the enormous herd of beasts, groups of
gauchos, still swathed in their blankets, squatted over the fires and
discussed their breakfasts. As for the cattle, they seemed to be in
a restless mood, and kept their guards galloping to and fro, cracking
their long whips and shouting. Indeed, less than ten minutes later,
as Dudley and his friend were eating their meal, the noise from the
herd became deafening. Every animal seemed to be bellowing, there
was much movement in the far corner of the group, and then of a
sudden the animals broke away. Men shouted, whips snapped like
pistols, and in a trice, as if the word had been passed through the
heaving ranks, some two thousand bullocks, heifers, and calves were
charging down upon the two who crouched over the fire. The sight
brought Mr. Blunt and Dudley to their feet promptly.
"They have broken away!" exclaimed the former quickly. "They do
sometimes, and give a great deal of trouble, besides being a positive
danger. Stay where you are, my lad. The horses are too far for us
to reach them, and it is useless to run."
They stood watching the herd anxiously, hoping that the gauchos, all
of whom had rushed to their horses, would be able to check the
beasts. The men threw themselves on the flank of the herd with
vigor, and sent their stinging lashes trailing over the beasts, while
they shouted and shrieked so as to frighten them and get them to move
in the opposite direction. But they might almost as well have hoped
to move a mountain. The mass of beasts had taken a sudden and
unaccountable fright, and bore down upon Dudley and Mr. Blunt with
all their force and speed.
"Get your gun and load quickly," said Mr. Blunt. "And get the flap
of your revolver pocket open. Those beasts must be stopped, or they
will gallop over us and trample us to death. Don't attempt to run,
Dudley. You would certainly be caught. Our only chance is to back
up the efforts of the gauchos, and stand firm. Let the brutes have a
couple of charges full in their faces when they get into range. That
will give you time to load again and repeat the dose."
There was little time for talking, for already the maddened herd was
almost within range of the shotgun. For a few seconds Dudley had
contemplated flight, and made ready to follow his employer should he
run. But seeing that he proposed to stand fast, he loaded his gun,
opened the flap of his holster, and faced the herd. It was a
terrifying spectacle, and it wanted no experience to tell him that if
the beasts were not stopped they would stamp everything in their path
flat with the ground. He felt his pulses throbbing wildly, while a
bead of perspiration collected in the furrow on his forehead and
trickled down his cheek. The time for action had arrived. He lifted
his gun, aimed at the far right of the herd, and pressed the two
triggers, one after the other, sending a hail of pellets into the
faces of the animals. But he might have fired peas for all the
effect the shots had. A few beasts on the far flank swerved away
into the open, and came to a halt, as if wondering what all the
commotion was about. But the remainder galloped madly on, as if they
saw the two solitary figures standing before them and had made up
their minds to annihilate them.
"Again!" said Mr. Blunt quietly. "Give them another charge, lad."
Crash! Bang! This time the range was much closer, and though the
shot did not separate so much, they struck the animals on the right
with far greater force. One, a massive beast, received a portion of
one charge full in the face, and it may have happened that one of the
pellets reached the brain by way of the eye. In any case the
ponderous animal fell on his horns, crumpled up, and rolled over and
over, while two near at hand rose for a moment into the air and
bellowed with pain. A second later a score of the beasts had poured
over the prostrate animal, had tripped, recovered their feet, and
tripped again. Fifty almost were down, and their startled bellows
seemed to scare the remainder of the herd. They swept in one dense
mass to the left, three of the gauchos galloping for their lives in
front of them, while those on the right flank came thundering over
the pampas, kicking their heels within six feet of Dudley and his
employer.
"Phew! That was the nearest shave I have ever had," exclaimed Mr.
Blunt, lifting his hat and wiping the perspiration from his brow. "I
thought it was all up with us, and was preparing to make a desperate
leap on to the back of the nearest beast, for I have known one man to
escape in that way. Then your lucky shot set the matter right. Lad,
you did well again. How did you feel? Inclined to bolt?"
"Never in a bigger funk in all my life, sir," came the candid answer,
and indeed Dudley was shaking with excitement. "I expected to be
smashed into a jelly, and can't believe now that they have run past
us. The life of a gaucho is not all honey after all. I suppose many
are killed in this way?"
"Scores have been trampled to death, and many are gored by bulls, or
have their backs broken by a bucking horse. Then they are very apt
to quarrel, and the Spanish blood they have leads them to let their
tempers loose and draw their knives. Yes, the gaucho seldom lives to
an old age. I like him. He is honest, hearty, and a good worker,
and he has pluck. But let us enquire as to damages. There will be
little branding to-day, Dudley. It will be three hours before the
herd is rounded up again."
They returned to their camp, still congratulating themselves on their
fortunate escape. It took but a few minutes to fetch their horses,
which had not been stampeded like many of the others, and in a little
while they were off, cantering away across the pampas.
"We will go on into the Indian country," said Mr. Blunt. "There are
often herds of wild horses there, and if we are lucky enough to spy
one, we will bring a party out to round them up. We don't do a great
deal of breeding on the rancho; Indian raids make that such a
profitless game. We rely on the wild animals always roaming the
pampas."
It was a glorious day, with a bright sun and a mild breeze. The
scent of wild grasses was in the air, while one huge vista of pampas
swept before the eye, with a few clumps of trees away in the
distance, for Dudley was in the middle of one of those vast plains of
South America famed to this day as grazing lands for cattle, and then
the home of herds of wild beasts, including cattle, horses, and deer
of many descriptions. In addition there were the Indians, an
ever-present danger to the settler. It was not long before the two
horsemen arrived at one of the collections of trees, and, skirting
this, they mounted a rise in the land till they were near the top.
"Our look-out station," said Mr. Blunt, sliding from his saddle and
leaving the beast to graze. "If I have sighted one herd of horses
from here I have sighted a dozen. Creep to the top and look over.
One does not require to be so careful nor so cunning as if one were
dealing with Indians. They would spot a head instantly, and then----"
"We should have a crowd down upon us," burst in Dudley. "I'll
practise going carefully, as if there were real danger."
He too slid to the ground, and soon the two were close to the top.
They went on their faces, and, crouching close to the ground, slowly
made their way to the extreme summit. Then, as if by common impulse,
they ducked, looked at each other, and gave low whistles of surprise.
Lucky it was for them, too, that they had had the caution to advance
so warily, for otherwise they would have been in a precarious
situation. They were out in search of horses, and as they topped the
rise their eyes fell upon what they sought--a fine collection of some
twenty beasts, with flowing manes, and with such freedom of action as
they ran that Dudley was enchanted. But there was something else
besides. Not thirty paces away sat four men who were half-naked.
Their backs were turned to the top of the hill, and they were
watching the horses attentively. The beasts were trotting towards
them, but when Dudley looked again they had halted, and stood with
heads in air, their ears pricked up, listening attentively, and now
and again breaking into a startled trot. Mr. Blunt saw something
more, for he took Dudley by the sleeve and pulled the fringe of his
coat. Then he pointed, and, following the direction, the young
Englishman beside him saw a number of specks in the distance. They
were mounted men, slowly stealing up behind the horses.
"Come away. Slip back again and mount."
Mr. Blunt hardly whispered the words, and promptly crawled away,
worming his long, lanky figure towards his horse. Dudley followed
suit, rose to his feet, and vaulted into the saddle.
"Walk!" whispered his employer. "Hush! Not a sound."
They took their horses at a slow pace for some three hundred yards,
casting a glance behind them every few seconds. Then Mr. Blunt
turned to Dudley.
"Are you ready for a fast ride?" he asked shortly.
Our hero shook his reins. "Certainly, sir!" he said. "Where to?"
"Back to the gauchos. Gallop all you can, and bring them back. I
don't want to attack the Indians, but I want to let them see that I
have plenty of men. And more than that, they stole some two hundred
horses from me eight months ago. I must have that herd down below,
and so retaliate. It does not do to let the Indian have it all his
own way. Off you go!"
"Alone, sir?"
"Yes, alone."
"And you, sir?"
"Alone, I said," came the curt answer.
Dudley swung his animal round, touched him ever so gently with the
rowel of his spur, and went off at a gallop. He would have liked to
ask what his employer was going to do, and felt anxious about him and
disinclined to leave him alone. But Mr. Blunt said what he meant.
He was a man of few words, as a rule, and those few were very much to
the point. Dudley had to be contented with that, and with an
occasional glance behind him till the solitary figure was lost to
sight.
"Wanted to argue!" exclaimed Mr. Blunt, when he had gone, a little
smile on his lips. "That chap's a sticker. There are many men whom
I have met who would have bolted from those cattle, and would have
been rolled and stamped till they were as flat as sheets. It's
trying work to stand and see a whole mass of heads and feet charging
down, and if he had bolted I could have forgiven him. That chap's a
sticker, I say, and he's come out here with the same idea as
youngsters of his age and of our race have, wherever they be. They
know it's right to stick to a friend, whatever the danger. That's
why he doesn't fancy leaving me behind. As if I were a chicken!"
He smiled grimly as he swung his long rifle round to the front,
opened the breech, and popped in a cartridge. This man knew that the
time for shooting had not yet arrived, and he was not going to be
hurried. He sat like a sentinel, the butt of his weapon at his hip,
and neither man nor horse moved. And there Dudley and the thirty
gauchos he brought back with him found their employer.
"Good!" said Mr. Blunt. "That number will scare the Indians. Now,
boys," he went on, "I don't want to make bad blood, which means that
I don't want to kill any of these fellows. All we want is to scare
them, and to drive them off. They must have the horses rounded up by
now, and we will take them over. The lesson will be a useful one.
Perhaps if we are successful, they will leave us alone for a time."
At a signal from him a group of the gauchos held in their horses,
while the remainder filed off in two lines, passing to left and to
right of the wood. Then, having allowed them to gain some distance,
Mr. Blunt walked his horse up to the ridge and clambered to the top.
Ten minutes later there was a shout as one of the Indians below saw
the group of gauchos, a shout which was taken up in all directions.
For the Indians, some forty in number, had now come quite close to
the hillock, and had drawn in the circle which they had thrown about
the herd of horses. Indeed, in a little while they would have been
at work with their bolas, or would have been driving the animals back
to their own country. To be disturbed at such a moment must have
been galling in the extreme. Cries and shouts of rage proceeded from
each man, and as Dudley came to the top of the ridge, and was fully
exposed, a shot rang out some fifty feet away. The bullet shaved the
tip of his chin, drawing a thin line of blood, punched a neat little
piece out of his left ear, and one of larger size out of the brim of
his hat. Then, having done its worst, it flew on into space, buzzing
and screeching as it went, for it was of native manufacture, all
angled and rough.
"You might have been shaving," laughed Mr. Blunt as Dudley felt his
chin with the tips of his fingers, and then touched his ear. "A miss
is as good as a mile, my lad, and a shot like that will make you as
steady under fire on future occasions as the oldest soldier. Hurt?"
"Not a bit, sir," came the ready answer. "My word, that fellow must
have spotted me as I came over the top!"
"You may be sure of that. He could have fired at one of the gauchos.
An Indian likes better to kill a white man. But look at them
running. They have seen the other parties."
The approach had been well timed, in fact, for hardly had the party
appeared on the crest when the others rode from either side of the
wood. The Indians looked at first as if they would resist the
approach of the strangers, but, seeing their numbers, and having a
huge dislike to warfare in the open, they put spurs to their animals,
and, even as Dudley wiped the blood from his ear and chin, they went
galloping for their lives across the pampas. Mr. Blunt at once waved
his hat over his head, and instantly the two parties below set their
horses at a fast gallop, and before the herd of frightened animals
below could disperse they had surrounded them.
"Better than I had hoped for," exclaimed Mr. Blunt. "We will drive
the beasts back to the corral, and then you shall see some fun. It
looks cruel, and in fact it is cruel, to break in these wild animals;
but we must have horses. To-morrow we shall turn out the stallions
and mares, and select the best of the young horses."
An hour later the whole party was returning, the men spread widely
across the pampas, and enclosing in their circle the twenty or more
wild animals which the Indians had rounded up. As dusk was falling
they rode over the boundary line of the rancho, and with dexterous
use of their whips, and by dint of much shouting and spurring,
managed to drive their catch into a huge corral, several of which had
been built at different parts of the estate.
"They will be secure there for the night, and we can leave them,"
said Mr. Blunt. "Let us get our supper and turn in. I don't think
we need fear another charge from the cattle, but if you are looking
for excitement to-morrow I fancy I can supply it. Come along, lad!
We have had a grand day, one which you will not forget in a hurry,
for you have smelled powder, and tasted the bullet of one of our
Indians."
He laughed heartily as he slid to the ground, while Dudley carried
the fingers of one hand to his chin and ear. The wounds smarted a
little, but nothing more, and very soon he had forgotten them as he
bustled about the fire. In addition, his thoughts were distracted by
the recollection of the horses which they had captured, and by his
friend's promise of excitement on the morrow.