AN INDIAN INVASION
The sun was shining brightly on the following morning as Dudley
stamped out the remains of the fire, for the gauchos and Mr. Blunt
had impressed upon him the need of great care in that respect.
"The grass flares at once," said Pietro, when warning him, "and I
have seen a gringo set the pampas on fire and have to ride for his
life. Then scores of gauchos have had to gather, and for days
perhaps the battle has gone on between them and the flames. The
señor must cut the grass in a circle always before lighting the
thistle tops, or he must choose a rocky place. Then he must always
stamp out the embers, or the wind may carry a small portion, or
animals kick the hot ashes into the grass."
Dudley carefully followed out the directions given him, and then
sauntered off to the corral, carrying his huge spurs now with
absolute ease and comfort, and being, in fact, quite unconscious of
them. He found the gauchos collecting in preparation for the day's
work, and as Mr. Blunt had not yet arrived, these men of the pampas
seized the opportunity of seeing for themselves what the newcomer
could do.
"There are no wagers this time, señor," said Pietro, standing beside
Dudley with an unconscious air of pride about him, as if it were he
who had introduced the latest gringo, and was responsible for his
actions and for his ability. "The men have asked me how long you
have been in the country, and they can scarcely believe that you are
such a shot. I have told them, and so have the comrades who looked
on, how you beat Giono. But no; they cannot credit the statements."
"And I cannot blame them," came the answer. "Of course it is funny
to find a gringo able to shoot. But then you can let the gauchos
know that Mr. Blunt gave me heaps of practice on the voyage out. I
suppose, too, that there are some fellows who get hold of a knack
quickly. For instance, some men can ride almost at once, while
others can never manage a horse."
"That may be true in your country, señor, but not in this. Here we
gauchos ride from infancy. There was a time, no doubt, before the
Spaniards came, and introduced horses, when the Indian knew nothing
about riding. But nowadays we never walk far. Horses are cheap. An
active man who can wield a bolas can always borrow a mount and go out
on the pampas to make a catch. Then he has merely to break in the
animal. I said that we ride from infancy. I remember that the very
first time I ever mounted a horse was when I was tiny, and far too
small to reach his back in the ordinary way. Fortunately he was a
quiet beast, for as he cropped the grass in front of my father's hut
I caught him by the tail, and with the help of a brother, as small as
myself, I swarmed up on to his quarters. That, señor, was my first
attempt. As to the knack of shooting, every gaucho can shoot, but it
is not all, or even many who have an eye and a hand such as yours.
The gift is a fine one; I wish I had it. But the señor will do what
the men wish?"
"Certainly, I'll do my best. That shot at the flying pith ball was
more or less of a fluke, but I might manage it again. At any rate
I'll try."
He pulled his revolver from his pocket as the men gathered round, and
then stood nursing the barrel just as he had done on the previous
occasion. Pietro himself threw the bolas as before, and to Dudley's
delight, and, to be honest, to his amazement, he had the good fortune
to strike the pith ball at the first shot and shatter it into a
hundred or more pieces.
"_Bueno_! That is shooting, comrades," exclaimed the big,
melancholy-looking man who had shaken hands with him on the previous
day. "The señor can shoot, and by all accounts he is brave and can
swim. Who knows, perhaps he can ride also. Whatever more he can do
he is certainly the best gringo we have ever seen. Let the señor
take the advice of an old gaucho. Let him learn to draw his weapon
swiftly. Therein lies the secret of safety and of victory when
dealing with the rough men of the pampas. Now we shall hope to show
him how we ride."
He went into the corral with a dozen of his comrades, Pietro being
amongst them, while Mr. Blunt came up to Dudley's side. Together
they watched as the gauchos inspected the captive horses, their
trained eyes picking out the younger and more suitable animals. As
for the poor beasts themselves, they were excessively wild, and now
that so many strange figures surrounded them they were almost mad
with terror, all save one grand animal, the father of the herd. He
stood with head lifted and ears pricked up, his eyes blazing; and
presently, as the gauchos approached, he gave a snort of rage and
dashed at them.
"Watch and you will see some quick work and some fun," said Mr.
Blunt. "If that wild fellow were to catch any of the men it would go
hard with them. Look at them running."
The gauchos took to their heels as the big horse made for them, and,
separating as well as possible, they ran with all their speed to the
rail of the corral. The majority reached it without incident, but it
happened that one of them, as he ran, tripped over the trailing thong
of his bolas, and went down with a crash. He was up in another
second, but by then the beast was close at hand, and as Dudley
watched he saw it spin round on its fore legs, as if it were a top,
and lash out furiously with its heels. The aim was so true, and the
manoeuvre so quickly carried out that it was wonderful that the
gaucho was not struck. But he had not worked on the pampas for
nothing, and no doubt he had seen many a similar adventure. Seeing
that he could not escape, he watched the pursuing horse, and as the
maddened brute twisted on its fore legs he threw himself on his face,
the heels swishing a foot over his back. Then he rolled over and
over, sprang to his feet, and rushed on again, reaching the rail of
the corral as the horse came within striking distance again.
"He will be killed," shouted Dudley in his excitement. "The brute
will kick the life out of him."
"He will escape. Redos knows the game," was Mr. Blunt's calm
rejoinder. "A new hand would attempt to clamber over; our friend
knows that that would be fatal."
The gaucho was, in fact, well able to take care of himself. As the
horse twisted on its feet again he threw himself on the ground, and,
repeating his previous tactics, rolled under the rail into safety,
while the heels swished overhead and struck the rail with a clatter
to be heard all over the corral.
"They will eject that fellow as a first precaution," said Mr. Blunt.
"There goes the first bolas. Pietro is not the lad to make a mess of
such a matter."
The gaucho to whom he had referred had taken his station on the
second rail of the corral, some little way to the left of the angry
horse, and could be seen swinging the two leaden balls of his bolas,
waiting for a favorable opportunity to cast. It came in a few
seconds. The beast still watched the man who had escaped, and, as he
moved towards Pietro, trotted along beside the corral fence, snorting
loudly, and eyeing him in no friendly manner. Once, in fact, he
dashed open-mouthed in his direction, only to be brought up short by
the stout fence. That was Pietro's opportunity, and he seized upon
it. The balls swished overhead and suddenly darted forward. Dudley
saw them separate, and in a moment they had twined round the neck and
fore legs of the horse, wrapping the plaited thongs so thoroughly
that escape was impossible. But the beast could still use its legs,
and, startled by the blow of the balls, and by the thongs, it twisted
round and made off at a furious pace, plunging as it went. But it
was not to go far. Pietro had used his bolas before, and seeing that
his aim was good, he had at once taken a turn of the thong round one
of the posts, and a strong grip of the slack end, so that when the
horse came to the full extent of the line he could bring him up
short, and yet not so suddenly as to break the leather. Crash! The
big beast staggered, rose high in the air, and then fell backwards,
lashing with all four legs. It was up again in an incredibly short
space of time, and then the same process was repeated. It darted
away, was brought up with a jerk, and stood glaring about it, choking
with the pressure of the thongs.
"He has made his fight, and is done for," said Mr. Blunt. "The men
will slip a leather noose into his mouth, and will so hobble his legs
with their bolas that he will be as helpless as a foal. Then they
will drag him out of the corral. It is absolutely necessary to do
that, for, as you see, he considers himself the guardian of the herd.
He would kick any other horse to pieces that dared come near his
flock out in the open, and here he would kill many of the gauchos if
he were not banished. Look! there goes another bolas. He will be
wound up so completely soon that he will have no more room for
astonishment."
Dudley could not help but admire the dexterity and the courage of the
gauchos. They tackled the big horse with method, and before very
long had it completely at their command. Then, choking still, and
half-stifled by a noose the grip of which could be increased at any
instant, they dragged it to the opening of the corral by means of the
thong passed over its chin, and with a quick movement set it free. A
whip cracked behind it, and in an instant the noble brute was
careering away. Half a dozen mares that were too old to be of any
use were quickly disposed of, the gauchos mounting their horses and
cutting them out from the herd. And then the real work of the day
commenced.
"There are some who would let the beasts run wild in the corrals for
a month or so," said Mr. Blunt. "But there is no object in delaying,
for they will be as wild and unruly then as they are now. You will
see how we deal with them. In a month they will be useful animals,
and as rideable as any we possess. But the task of breaking them in
is no light one. Men are specially selected for it, and receive so
much pay per animal; for it is dangerous work, and many gauchos are
killed at it."
Dudley could believe that when half an hour had passed, and he had
had an opportunity of seeing what actually occurred.
"The first thing is to get a halter on their heads, and a leather bit
in their mouths, señor," said Pietro, coming to his side. "Then the
saddle must be fitted. That troubles them more perhaps than does the
bit. Look, now, at the young horse our friend is selecting."
The big gaucho who had shown his friendliness was striding about in
the corral, and eyeing the wild young horses there with the utmost
care. Presently he selected a fine beast, well grown, and possessing
a large amount of bone and muscle. It was as wild almost as the
first had been, but not quite so courageous, for it kept its distance
from these men. However, it was gradually driven into a corner, and
then, finding its tormentors closing in, it swung round and galloped
past them.
"A fine shot, señor! Our comrade can use the bolas," sang out
Pietro, as the tall gaucho swung his implement and flung it at the
heels of the horse. In a moment the animal was down, its legs
entwined by the thongs, and as it lay there helplessly a halter was
placed over its head, and then a bit of strong but soft leather was
placed in its mouth.
"It would never do to use an iron one, señor," explained Pietro.
"That would be asking too much of a horse. See how he frets now.
But he has worse to bear, and in a moment there will be a struggle."
Having safely placed the bit in position, the big gaucho knotted the
reins on the neck of the beast so that they would be ready to hand
when the moment came to mount. Then he beckoned to a comrade, who
ran up with the saddle. At the same moment three of the gauchos took
firm hold of the halter by means of the rope attached to it and
pulled till the animal was lying almost on its heels.
"On with the saddle," sang out their leader, and at the word the
flaps were dropped on either side.
"Now let go the heels."
The thongs which encircled its legs were carefully unwound, leaving
the horse free to rise. But it lay for a few seconds, bewildered at
such unaccustomed treatment. Then, feeling more freedom in its legs,
it rose to its feet with a jerk, and stood looking about, uncertain
how to act or where to run. The big gaucho took instant advantage of
the delay. Speaking in a soothing voice to the animal, he stepped
silently to its side, stretched under the belly, and made the girths
fast. Then he placed a hand on the neck, unknotted the reins, and
leaped into the saddle with an agile bound. The spell under which
the poor beast labored was broken instantly. It staggered under the
weight for one brief second, and then rose on its hind legs till it
seemed that it would topple over.
"The real fight begins now," said Pietro, who still stood beside
Dudley. "Our friend has work before him, for that is a strong young
horse, which will not give in without a struggle. Ah, he has his
stirrups, and his feet are well home! Our comrade is one of the best
of horse breakers."
Dudley watched the scene which followed with breathless interest, for
he had never seen its like. He had heard of cowboys and their feats
of horsemanship, but had never conceived it possible that any man
could keep in his saddle as on this occasion. For the horse was
maddened. The load on his back terrified it, and for a quarter of an
hour it raged up and down the corral, rising on its heels, bucking,
and giving such enormous leaps that had it attempted the same close
to the rails it would have easily cleared them. And all the while
the gaucho clung like a leech to it, while the cruel rowels of his
spurs struck the heaving flanks incessantly, till the blood trickled
from many a wound.
[Illustration: "ALL THE WHILE THE GAUCHO CLUNG LIKE A LEECH TO IT"]
"It is no time for soft measures, Dudley," said Mr. Blunt. "It is
kinder to be harsh now, for once and all, than constantly to repeat
the cruelty. That horse is getting beaten. In a couple of hours he
will be docile. How would you care to try your horsemanship?"
"Not at all," was the candid answer. "I should be sprawling after
the first half-minute. But you said he would be beaten in two hours.
Will he be able to go on plunging and bucking for such a time?"
"He might, but our object is to wind him. The gaucho will take him
for a gallop and give him his head."
The time had apparently come for this portion of the breaking-in, and
a few moments later there was a warning shout from the struggling
gaucho, a number of the men lined up between the other horses and the
exit, and then the animal he rode was steered out of the corral.
Once outside there was nothing to limit its pace, and it set off at a
furious gallop, lashed into frenzy by the whip which the gaucho now
used, and smarting under the cruel rowels of the spurs.
"He will go miles," said Mr. Blunt, "and when he returns he will be
like a naughty schoolboy who has come to school for the first time
after being given free play at home. He will have met with his first
master, and will be aching after his very first lesson. In a week he
will be a likely horse, and in a month he will whinny a welcome to
the man who now treats him so harshly. Let us go along the corral
and watch the other men."
Nearly a dozen other horses were meanwhile being roped in, and for
the next two hours Dudley watched the same process repeated, but with
variations. Sometimes a horse had less spirit, and was beaten very
early, even consented to trot round the corral without attempting to
get rid of its rider. But in every case, whatever the fight shown,
they were taken out of the corral for a long burst over the pampas.
Soon the first one was seen returning, limping over the grass, and
looking as if it could barely drag one leg after the other. Indeed
the poor brute had been ridden to a finish, and could scarcely reach
the corral. It was taken to one corner, the bit slipped from its
mouth and the saddle from its back. At once it lay down on the
ground, disdaining the fresh grass placed beside it.
"He is hopelessly beaten and as tired as a dog," said Mr. Blunt. "He
will lie there for twenty-four hours perhaps, and will not touch a
morsel of feed, nor any water. Then he will recover, and our big
friend will be there to talk kindly to him, to encourage him, and to
comfort him with a bundle of sweet grass. Now, what do you think of
our methods of taming horses?"
"They are utterly unlike any I had ever conceived. They look very
cruel at first sight, but I can see that in the end it is better and
easier for the horse to be beaten outright, than to be subdued by a
series of attempts each one of which must terrify him. It will be a
long time before I shall be able to ride like these gauchos."
"You are right there, lad, for one cannot pick up, even at your young
age, a thing with which these fine fellows may be said to grow up.
They are born riders, and they have need to be, for a bucking wild
horse is no easy beast to sit on. Now we will return to the cattle
and watch the branding. These are all things that I want you to
learn to do or to be able to criticize, for in a little while you
will be the agent in charge during my absence."
Two months later Dudley had become quite an old hand on the rancho,
and was by no means a gringo any longer. Indeed, thanks to his
encounter with Giono, he had come to the gauchos employed by Mr.
Blunt with a strong and telling introduction, an introduction which
appealed to these wild men of the pampas far better than wealth would
have done. They admired a man who could shoot and who had courage.
They liked to see a youngster conquer difficulties, and they had
watched Dudley as he gained no mean mastership over horses. Then
they had seen him under fire, and had noted with what indifference he
treated his wound.
"He is a gringo who meets with our approval, and whom we can obey,"
said Pietro one night as the gauchos were collected round the fire.
"He has no airs and graces. He is glad to meet each one of us, to
shake hands, and to chat. He is different from some of the stuck-up
fools who come our way on occasion."
Thanks to the friendship of the gauchos, and to his own energy, our
hero very soon became of the greatest value to his employer, till at
length he was appointed his overseer, and had complete management of
the rancho.
"It gives you a good deal of responsibility, which is a thing which
every lad ought to be able to take, and it also lets the men see that
I have confidence in you," said Mr. Blunt. "That encourages them to
look to you as a leader and master, and I'm glad indeed to find such
a friendly feeling amongst you all."
One day Dudley had ridden to the far western boundary of the rancho,
and hearing the news from one of the gauchos that horses had been
seen far out on the pampas, he pressed on till he came to the hill
from the summit of which he and his employer had once before seen a
herd. None were in sight, though he imagined he saw some dark specks
in the distance, which might be horses.
"We are in want of some," he said to himself, "and so I think I had
better go ahead. If those are horses I shall know within two hours,
and then could be back with the gauchos in the morning."
He shook his reins and trotted on for some miles, when, judging that
he was now near enough to the objects he had seen in the distance, he
made for a slight rise and clambered to the summit. He had hardly
reached it when he was startled by a loud report, by a puff of smoke
a few yards to his right, and at the same instant by a curious
movement in his hat. It jerked back suddenly, spun round, and then
settled on his head again in the most extraordinary and disconcerting
manner. There was a shout, and then from right and left a chorus of
frantic yells. Figures sprang up from the hollows and the long
grass, while twenty horsemen galloped from behind a small clump of
trees.
"Indians! A hundred of them perhaps!" was Dudley's startled
exclamation. "I shall have to run for my life."
He took to his heels at once, and raced down the hillock towards his
horse, the gun which he carried over his shoulders pounding against
his back. He had fifty yards to cover, and long before he had gained
his mount the Indian who had fired at him had reached the top of the
hillock and had thrown himself on one knee. There came the ring of
an iron ramrod, for this savage was armed with an old-fashioned
muzzle-loader. Then followed the bellow of the piece, while a ball
hummed over the pampas, missed our hero by little more than an inch,
and, flying on, struck his horse just in front of the saddle, causing
him to rear up, give a startled neigh, and then trot on a few paces.
"Whoa! Steady, horse!" shouted Dudley, knowing that his life
depended on his mount. "Steady, boy! I'm coming."
It was a fortunate thing for him that he had made a point of
accustoming his mount to his voice, for otherwise the frightened
animal would have bolted. As it was it stood irresolute, listening
to Dudley's words, its ears pricked up and its eyes cast back at the
figures now pouring over the summit. There were at least forty
dismounted Indians, and a rattling volley came from their
muzzle-loaders as the fugitive reached the side of his horse, the
bullets whizzing overhead and on either side, but missing man and
animal by good chance. Dudley vaulted into his saddle promptly,
clutched at his reins, and, turning his face towards the distant
rancho, set spurs to the flanks of his horse. And then commenced a
flight which was all too exciting for the young fellow who was being
chased.
Bang! Bang! Another volley rattled from the direction of the
hillock, a scattered, irregular volley, broken by shouts and wild
yells. Then there was a dull thud and the horse sprang into the air
and then galloped on at an even greater pace, for it had been stung
by a bullet which had struck it on the quarter. However, the range
was rather far for a muzzle-loader, and it happened that the wound
was only a superficial one.
"Steady, boy!" cried Dudley, taking good hold of his reins and
looking round. "We have a long gallop before us and we had better be
careful. Steady! Their horsemen are not in sight."
Pulling gently at the mouth of the excited steed he managed to steady
its pace a little, till it was bounding at a good gallop over the
pampas. It was a fine beast, and capable of a long race, but not at
full speed all the way. Dudley knew that, and like the jockey who
has a good horse beneath him, and other fine ones to beat, he
determined to husband the strength of his mount, so as to keep it
comfortably ahead of the pursuers as far as the rancho.
A minute later a mob of shrieking Indians burst over the top of the
hillock and came galloping down, their arms waving in the air, guns
flourishing overhead, and their bodies bent low in the saddle. They
were a set of cut-throats in appearance, and bellowed and shrieked in
a manner which gave some indication of their ferocity. But no one
who watched their mad pursuit could have failed to admire them to
some extent. The men were part and parcel of their horses. They
rode on a strip of leather for the most part, and had no stirrups.
Their knees lay close to their horses and they sat as if they were
glued to their places. There was an easy swing and poise about them,
too, which told that they trusted entirely to grip and to balance,
and were thus able to do without saddle and stirrups.
"A nasty-looking lot of beggars," thought Dudley, "and well mounted,
as they always are. It will be a close race, and very soon I shall
have to press my horse. The fellows haven't saddles either. I wish
I hadn't. It gives them an advantage, for I carry extra weight."
That set him thinking, for the native saddle used by the gauchos was
a somewhat heavy and cumbersome affair, and, to one used to an
English hunting saddle, it was by no means too comfortable. He
turned again to watch the Indians, noticing that already quite a
number had commenced to fall to the rear. Then he bent towards his
horse's neck and slid his left hand down to the buckle which secured
the girth.
"It could be done," he said to himself. "I could unbuckle the strap
and so loosen the saddle. The thing is, could I manage to pass it
backwards without toppling over?"
He thought again, and, as if to practise the movement slipped his
toes from the stirrups, for he had often ridden without the latter
and knew that he would not tumble. A little consideration showed him
that the feat he contemplated was possible, and knowing well that if
he intended to relieve his horse of some weight it would be wiser to
do so now, at the very commencement of the struggle, he promptly slid
his hand down to the buckle again and in a minute had it loosened.
He gripped the neck of his mount with the hand which held the reins,
and, leaning forward, lifted himself, while with the free hand he
pushed the saddle backwards. Once he swerved dangerously, for the
task was no easy one, and at the sight a howl came from the pursuing
mob.
"Shout away!" cried Dudley, as he regained his balance. "You've not
got me yet, and if I can prevent you, well, I will."
One more effort and the saddle was behind him. A touch, and it,
together with his poncho and blanket and a couple of heavy saddle
bags, overbalanced and fell to the ground with a crash. His gallant
beast was now on more even terms with those ridden by the Indians,
and as he felt the relief he tossed his head and pulled at the bit.
"Steady, lad!" shouted his rider again. "We're keeping just nicely
ahead, and there is no occasion to do more. They are getting broken
up a little. Some are being left behind."
His knees were close in to his horse's side now, and he bent low,
till his figure hardly caught the wind. Every two or three seconds
he turned his head to watch the Indians, and noted that the worst
mounted were already being left in the rear, while those who were
foremost had not gained an inch. They were two hundred yards behind,
galloping hard; but though he looked carefully he could not see a
whip used, nor did they seem to wear spurs.
"Wily foxes," he said, "they are doing the same thing! They are
carefully holding in their animals, probably thinking that they will
tire mine out. That will suit me well, for the rancho is not more
than six miles away now, and we can keep this pace up for a longer
distance."
He began to feel more confident, and though the shouts and screams of
the pursuers made him feel inclined to use his spurs, and force the
pace, he went on as before, checking his speed by theirs,
disregarding the reports of the weapons which they occasionally
snapped at him, and always maintaining the same distance in advance.
But he was by no means out of the woods, as he was shortly to learn.
The Indians had seen him free his horse of the saddle, and had
increased their angry shouts. But when three miles had been covered,
the dozen or more who still remained had settled down to a grim
silence. They could not afford to waste their breath, nor could they
reload their weapons at that pace. Instead, they began to let their
horses out little by little, and very soon they were using their
whips, sending their animals along at breakneck pace.
"Time for me to push along," thought Dudley. "In a few minutes I
ought to be in the rancho and among friends, so I have only to keep
going for a little while. Come along, boy!"
This time the rowels of his spurs touched the flanks, and his beast
increased its pace, and for a time held the distance it had gained at
the first. One by one the pursuing Indians dropped off, the pace
being too hot for their horses, till three only were left. But these
were beautifully mounted, and, now that the crisis of the affair had
arrived, they showed that there was still a little pace to be
squeezed out of their horses. Their whips cracked, their bony heels
went to the flanks, and their beasts steadily drew up to the quarry.
Then one of the three disengaged himself from his comrades inch by
inch till he was some yards ahead, and was rapidly overhauling
Dudley. The man carried a revolver in one hand, and instead of a
whip used his cruel spurs continuously. Dudley glanced round at him,
gave an exclamation, and then slipped his hand into the pocket
carried on the hip of his riding leggings. For this was not an
Indian. The man was dressed as a gaucho, and it wanted only a second
glance at that evil face, at those deep-set and scowling eyes, to
tell him that it was Giono, the man who had warned him to beware, and
who had left the rancho breathing vengeance against the two white men
who resided there.