It is the day succeeding that on which the hunter-naturalist was carried
home a corpse, sitting upright in his saddle. The sun has gone down
over the Gran Chaco, and its vast grassy plains and green palm-groves
are again under the purple of twilight. Herds of stately _quazutis_ and
troops of the _pampas_ roebuck--beautiful creatures, spotted like fawns
of the fallow-deer--move leisurely towards their watering-places, having
already browsed to satiety on pastures where they are but rarely
disturbed by the hunter, for here no sound of horse nor baying of
molossian ever breaks the stillness of the early morn, and the only
enemies they have habitually to dread are the red puma and yellow
jaguar, throughout Spanish America respectively, but erroneously, named
lion (_leon_) and tiger (_tigre)_, from a resemblance, though a very
slight one, which these, the largest of the New World's _felidae_, bear
to their still grander congeners of the Old.
The scene we are about to depict is upon the Pilcomayo's bank, some
twenty miles above the old _tomeria_ of the Tovas Indians, and therefore
thirty from the house of Ludwig Halberger--now his no more, but a house
of mourning. The mourners, however, are not all in it, for by a
camp-fire freshly kindled at the place we speak of; two of them are seen
seated. One is the son of the murdered man, the other his nephew; while
not far off is a third individual, who mourns almost as much as either.
Need I say it is Caspar, the gaucho?
Or is it necessary to give explanation of their being thus far from home
so soon after that sad event, the cause of their sorrow? No. The
circumstances speak for themselves; telling than to be there on an
errand connected with that same crime; in short, in pursuit of the
criminals.
Who these may be they have as yet no definite knowledge. All is but
blind conjectures, the only thing certain being that the double crime
has been committed by Indians; for the trail which has conducted to the
spot they are now on, first coming down the river's bank to the branch
stream, then over its ford and back again, could have been made only by
a mounted party of red men.
But of what tribe? That is the question which puzzles them. Not the
only one, however. Something besides causes them surprise, equally
perplexing them. Among the other hoof-marks, they have observed some
that must have been made by a horse with shoes on; and as they know the
Chaco Indians never ride such, the thing strikes them as very strange.
It would not so much, were the shod-tracks only traceable twice along
the trail; that is, coming down the river and returning up again, for
they might suppose that one of the savages was in possession of a white
man's horse, stolen from some of the settlements, a thing of no uncommon
occurrence. But then they have here likewise observed a third set of
these tracks, of older date, also going up, and a fourth, freshest of
all, returning down again; the last on top of everything else,
continuing on to the old _tolderia_, as they have noticed all the way
since leaving it.
And in their examination of the many hoof-marks by the force of the
tributary stream, up to the _sumac_ thicket--and along the _tapir_ path
to that blood-stained spot which they have just visited--the same tracks
are conspicuous amid all the others, telling that he who rode the shod
horse has had a hand in the murder, and likely a leading one.
It is the gaucho who has made most of these observations, but about the
deductions to be drawn from them, he is, for the time, as much at fault
as either of his younger companions.
They have just arrived at their present halting-place, their first camp
since leaving the _estancia_; from which they parted a little before
mid-day: soon as the sad, funeral rites were over, and the body of the
murdered man laid in its grave. This done at an early hour of the
morning, for the hot climate of the Chaco calls for quick interment.
The sorrowing wife did nought to forbid their departure. She had her
sorrows as a mother, too; and, instead of trying to restrain, she but
urged them to take immediate action in searching for her lost child.
That Francesca is still living they all believe, and so long as there
seemed a hope--even the slightest--of recovering her, the bereaved
mother was willing to be left alone. Her faithful Guanos would be with
her.
It needed no persuasive argument to send the searchers off. In their
own minds they have enough motive for haste; and, though in each it
might be different in kind, as in degree, with all it is sufficiently
strong. Not one of them but is willing to risk his life in the pursuit
they have entered upon; and at least one would lay it down rather than
fail in finding Francesca, and restoring her to her mother.
They have followed thus far on the track of the abductors, but without
any fixed or definite plan as to continuing. Indeed, there has been no
time to think of one, or anything else; all hitherto acting under that
impulse of anxiety for the girl's fate which they so keenly feel. But
now that the first hurried step has been taken, and they can go no
further till another sun lights up the trail, calmer reflection comes,
admonishing them to greater caution in their movements. For they who
have so ruthlessly killed one man would as readily take other lives--
their own. What they have undertaken is no mere question of skill in
taking up a trail, but an enterprise full of peril; and they have need
to be cautious how they proceed upon it.
They are so acting now. Their camp-fire is but a small one, just
sufficient to boil a kettle of water for making the _mate_, and the spot
where they have placed it is in a hollow, so that it may not be seen
from afar. Besides, a clump of palms screens it on the western side,
the direction in which the trail leads, and therefore the likeliest for
them to apprehend danger.
Soon as coming to a stop, and before kindling the fire Gaspar has gone
all around, and made a thorough survey of the situation. Then,
satisfied it is a safe one, he undertakes the picketing of their horses,
directing the others to set light to the faggots; which they have done,
and seated themselves beside.