The house of the hunter-naturalist was placed at some distance from the
river's bank, its site chosen with an eye to the picturesque; and no
lovelier landscape ever lay before the windows of a dwelling. From its
front ones--or, better still, the verandah outside them--the eye
commands a view alone limited by the power of vision: verdant savannas,
mottled with copses of acacia and groves of palm, with here and there
single trees of the latter standing solitary, their smooth stems and
gracefully-curving fronds cut clear as cameos against the azure sky.
Nor is it a dead level plain, as _pampas_ and prairies are erroneously
supposed always to be. Instead, its surface is varied with undulations;
not abrupt as the ordinary hill and dale scenery, but gently swelling
like the ocean's waves when these have become crestless after the
subsidence of a storm.
Looking across this champaign from Halberger's house at almost any hour
of the day, one would rarely fail to observe living creatures moving
upon it. It may be a herd of the great _guazuti_ deer, or the smaller
_pampas_ roe, or, perchance, a flock of _rheas_--the South American
ostrich--stalking along tranquilly or in flight, with their long necks
extended far before, and their plumed tails streaming train-like behind
them. Possibly they may have been affrighted by the tawny puma, or
spotted jaguar, seen skulking through the long pampas grass like
gigantic cats. A drove of wild horses, too, may go careering past, with
manes and tails showing a wealth of hair which shears have never
touched; now galloping up the acclivity of a ridge; anon disappearing
over its crest to re-appear on one farther off and of greater elevation.
Verily, a scene of Nature in its wildest and most interesting aspect!
Upon that same plain, Ludwig Halberger and his people are accustomed to
see others than wild horses--some with men upon their backs, who sit
them as firmly as riders in the ring; that is, when they do _sit_ them,
which is not always. Often may they be seen standing erect upon their
steeds, these going in full gallop! True, your ring-rider can do the
same; but then his horse gallops in a circle, which makes it a mere feat
of centrifugal and centripetal balancing. Let him try it in a straight
line, and he would drop off like a ripe pear from the tree. No curving
course needs the Chaco Indian, no saddle nor padded platform on the back
of his horse, which he can ride standing almost as well as seated. No
wonder, then, these savages--if savages they may be called--have
obtained the fanciful designation of centaurs--the "Red Centaurs of the
Chaco."
Those seen by Ludwig Halberger and his family are the "Tovas," already
introduced. Their village, termed _tolderia_, is about ten miles off,
up the river. Naraguana wished the white man to have fixed his
residence nearer to him, but the naturalist knew that would not answer.
Less than two leagues from an Indian encampment, and still more if a
permanent dwelling-place, which this _tolderia_ is, would make the
pursuit of his calling something more than precarious. The wild birds
and beasts--in short, all the animated creation--dislike the proximity
of the Indian, and flee his presence afar.
It may seem strange that the naturalist still continues to form
collections, so far from any place where he might hope to dispose of
them. Down the Pilcomayo he dares not take them, as that would only
bring him back to the Paraguay river, interdict to navigation, as ever
jealously guarded, and, above all, tabooed to himself. But he has no
thought, or intention, to attempt communicating with the civilised world
in that way; while a design of doing so in quite another direction has
occurred to him, and, in truth, been already all arranged. This, to
carry his commodities overland to the Rio Vermejo, and down that stream
till near its mouth; then again overland, and across the Parana to
Corrientes. There he will find a shipping port in direct commerce with
Buenos Ayres, and so beyond the jurisdiction of Paraguay's Dictator.
Naraguana has promised him not only an escort of his best braves, but a
band of _cargadores_ (carriers) for the transport of his freight; these
last the slaves of his tribe. For the aristocratic Tovas Indians have
their bondsmen, just as the Caffres, or Arab merchants of Africa.
Nearly three years have elapsed since the naturalist became established
in his new quarters, and his collection has grown to be a large one.
Safely landed in any European port, it would be worth many thousands of
dollars; and thither he wishes to have it shipped as soon as possible.
He has already warned Naraguana of his wish, and that the freight is
ready; the chief, on his part, promising to make immediate preparations
for its transport overland.
But a week has passed over, and no Naraguana, nor any messenger from
him, has made appearance at the _estancia_. No Indian of the Tovas
tribe has been seen about the place, nor anywhere near it; in short, no
redskin has been seen at all, save the _guanos_, Halberger's own male
and female domestics.
Strange all this! Scarce ever has a whole week gone by without his
receiving a visit from the Tovas chief, or some one of his tribe; and
rarely half this time without Naraguana's own son, by name Aguara,
favouring the family with a call, and making himself as agreeable as
savage may in the company of civilised people.
For all, there is one of that family to whom his visits are anything but
agreeable; in truth, the very reverse. This Cypriano, who has conceived
the fancy, or rather feels conviction, that the eyes of the young Tovas
chief rest too often, and too covetously, on his pretty cousin,
Francesca. Perhaps, except himself, no one has noticed this, and he
alone is glad to count the completion of a week without any Indian
having presented himself at his uncle's establishment.
Though there is something odd in their prolonged non-appearance, still
it is nothing to be alarmed about. On other occasions there had been
intervals of absence as long, and even longer, when the men of the tribe
were away from their _tolderia_, on some foraging or hunting expedition.
Nor would Halberger have thought anything of it; but for the
understanding between him and the Tovas chief, in regard to the
transport of his collections. Naraguana had never before failed in any
promise made to him. Why should he in this?
A sense of delicacy hinders the naturalist from riding over to the Tovas
town, and asking explanation why the chief delays keeping his word. In
all such matters, the American Indian, savage though styled, is
sensitive as the most refined son of civilisation; and, knowing this,
Ludwig Halberger waits for Naraguana to come to him.
But when a second week has passed, and a third, without the Tovas chief
reporting himself, or sending either message or messenger, the Prussian
becomes really apprehensive, not so much for himself, as the safety of
his red-skinned protector. Can it be that some hostile band has
attacked the Tovas tribe, massacred all the men, and carried off the
women? For in the Chaco are various communities of Indians, often at
deadly feud with one another. Though such conjecture seems improbable,
the thing is yet possible; and to assure himself, Halberger at length
resolves upon going over to the _tolderia_ of the Tovas. Ordering his
horse saddled, he mounts, and is about to ride off alone, when a sweet
voice salutes him, saying:--
"Papa! won't you take me with you?"
It is his daughter who speaks, a girl not yet entered upon her teens.
"In welcome, Francesca. Come along!" is his answer to her query.
"Then stay till I get my pony. I sha'n't be a minute."
She runs back towards the corrals, calling to one of the servants to
saddle her diminutive steed. Which, soon brought round to the front of
the house, receives her upon its back.
But now another, also a soft, sweet voice, is heard in exhortation. It
is that of Francesca's mother, entering protest against her husband
either going alone, or with a companion so incapable of protecting him.
She says:--
"Dear Ludwig, take Caspar with you. There may be danger--who knows?"
"Let me go, _tio_?" puts in Cypriano, with impressive eagerness, his
eyes turned towards his cousin as though he did not at all relish the
thought of her visiting the Tovas village without his being along with
her.
"And me, too?" also requests Ludwig, the son, who is two years older
than his sister.
"No, neither of you," rejoins the father. "Ludwig, you would not leave
your mother alone? Besides, remember I have set both you and Cypriano a
lesson, which you must learn off to-day. There is nothing to fear,
_querida_!" he adds, addressing himself to his wife. "We are not now in
Paraguay, but a country where our old Friend Francia and his satellites
dare not intrude on us. Besides, I cannot spare the good Caspar from
some work I have given him to do. Bah! 'Tis only a bit of a morning's
trot there and back; and if I find there's nothing wrong, we'll be home
again in little ever a couple of hours. So _adios! Vamos_, Francesca!"
With a wave of his hand he moves off, Francesca giving her tiny roadster
a gentle touch of the whip, and trotting by his side.
The other three, left standing in the verandah, with their eyes follow
the departing equestrians, the countenance of each exhibiting an
expression that betrays different emotions in their minds, these
differing both as to the matter of thought and the degree of intensity.
Ludwig simply looks a little annoyed at having to stay at home when he
wanted to go abroad, but without any great feeling of disappointment;
whereas Cypriano evidently suffers chagrin, so much that he is not
likely to profit by the appointed lesson. With the Senora herself it is
neither disappointment nor chagrin, but a positive and keen
apprehension. A daughter of Paraguay, brought up to believe its ruler
all powerful over the earth, she can hardly realise the idea of there
being a spot where the hand of "El Supremo" cannot reach and punish
those who have thwarted his wishes or caprices. Many the tale has she
heard whispered in her ear, from the cradle upwards, telling of the
weird power of this wicked despot, and the remorseless manner in which
he has often wielded it. Even after their escape into the chaco, where,
under the protection of the Tovas chief, they might laugh his enmity to
scorn, she has never felt the confidence of complete security. And now,
that an uncertainty has arisen as to what has befallen Naraguana and his
people, her fears became redoubled and intensified. Standing in the
trellissed verandah, her eyes fixed upon the departing forms of her
husband and daughter, she has a heaviness at the heart, a presentiment
of some impending danger, which seems so near and dreadful as to cause
shivering throughout her frame.
The two youths, observing this, essay to reassure her--one in filial
duty, the other with affection almost as warm.
Alas! in vain. As the crown of the tall hat worn by her husband, goes
down behind the crest of a distant ridge, Francesca's having sooner
disappeared, her heart sinks at the same time; and, making a sign of the
cross, she exclaims in desponding accents:--
"_Madre de Dios_! We may ne'er see them more!"