"You'll see."
And they do see; first himself dismounting and tying his bridle to a
branch; then detaching his lazo from its ring in the saddle-tree, and
carefully adjusting its coils over his left arm. This done, he
separates from them, as he walks away, speaking back in a whisper:--
"Keep your ground, young masters, till I return to you, and if you can
help it, don't let the horses make any noise, or budge an inch. For
yourselves, _silencio_!"
As they promise all this, he parts from them, and is soon out of sight;
their last glance showing him to be making for the ford, going with bent
body and crouched gait, as cat or cougar stealing upon its prey.
For some ten minutes or so, they neither see nor hear more of him; and
can only conjecture that the design he has so suddenly conceived, has
something to do with the _garzones_. So believing, curiosity prompts
them to have another peep at these piscatory birds; which by standing up
in their stirrups--for they are still seated in the saddle--they can.
Looking over the tops of the bushes, they see that the cranes continue
fishing undisturbed, and seemingly unaware of an enemy being near, or
that danger threatens them.
But not much longer are they left to enjoy this feeling of security.
While the two youths are still regarding them, first one, then another,
is observed to elevate its head to the full height of its long slender
neck; while here and there throughout the flock are heard cries of
warning or alarm; the frightened ones letting fall the fish already in
their beaks, while those not quite so much scared, suddenly swallow
them. But in another instant, all, as if by one impulse, give out a
simultaneous scream; then, rising together, spread their broad,
sail-like wings, and go flapping away.
No, not all. One stays in the _riacho_; no longer to look after fish,
but with both wings outspread over the surface of the stream, beating
the water into froth--as it does so, all the while drawing nearer and
nearer to the nether bank! But its movements are convulsive and
involuntary, as can be told by something seen around its neck resembling
a rope. And a rope it is; the youths knowing it to be the _lazo_ they
late saw coiled over Caspar's arm, knowing also that he is at the other
end of it. He is hauling it in, hand over hand, till the captured bird,
passing under the high bank, disappears from their view.
Soon, however, to re-appear; but now carried under the gaucho's arm.