Gaspar's promise to give them a dinner of the three orthodox courses--
fish, flesh, and fowl--was only meant in a jocular sense. For the
flesh, their stock of _charqui_ is not drawn upon; and as to fowl, the
soldier-crane would be a still more unpalatable morsel. So it results
in their dining simply upon fish; this not only without sauce, but
swallowed at second-hand!
While they are occupied in the eating it, the gaucho, seeming more
cheerful than usual, says:--
"I've a bit of good news for you, _hijos mios_."
"Indeed! what?" is their eager inquiry.
"That we are still upon the right road. The redskins have gone past
here, as I supposed they would."
"You've discovered fresh traces of them, then?"
"I have ever so many scratches of their horses' feet, where they slipped
in stepping down to the stream. Quite plain they are; I could
distinguish them some way off, and with half an eye, as I was hauling in
the _soldado_. Good news, I call it; since we won't have to take the
back-track anyhow. What's before us remains to be seen. Possibly, on
the other side we may light on something else, to tell the direction
they've taken. So, we'd better lose no time, but cross over."
Hurriedly finishing their primitive repast, they spring back upon their
_recados_, and ride down to the ford.
Once in the water, they find it not quite so shallow, as they had
supposed from seeing the _garzones_ wading about with but the slightest
portion of their shanks below the surface. For at the bottom is a
substratum of mud; a soft slimy ooze, firm enough to support the light
birds, but through which the heavier quadrupeds, further weighted with
themselves and their baggage, sink to their bellies.
Gaspar is surprised at finding the ford in this condition. It was not
so when he passed over it before, and he can only account for the change
by the dust from the _tormenta_ having been blown in large quantities
into the stream, then carried down by the current, and settling over the
shallow crossing-place.
Whatever the cause, they find it awkward work to wade through the sticky
slime. Still, they might have accomplished the crossing without
accident, and doubtless would have done so, but for an impediment of
another kind--one not only altogether unexpected, but far more to be
dreaded than any danger of their going head and ears over into the ooze.
For just as they have reached mid-stream, and are splashing and
floundering on, Gaspar, who is riding ahead, and shouting back
directions to the others, all at once finds his attention fully occupied
in looking to himself, or rather to his horse. For the animal has come
to a stop, suddenly and without any restraint of the rein, and stands
uttering strange snorts, while quivering throughout every fibre of its
frame!
Glancing over his shoulder, the gaucho sees that the other horses have
also halted, and are behaving in a precisely similar manner, their
riders giving utterance to excited exclamations. Ludwig looks a picture
of astonishment; while, strange to say, on Cypriano's countenance the
expression is more one of alarm! And the same on the face of the gaucho
himself; for he, as the young Paraguayan comprehends the situation, and
well knows what has brought their horses so abruptly to a halt.
"What is it, Gaspar?" questions Ludwig, now also alarmed at seeing the
others so.
"Eels!" ejaculates the gaucho.
"Eels! Surely you're jesting?" queries the incredulous youth.
"No, indeed," is the hurried rejoinder. "I only wish it were a jest.
It's not, but a dire, dangerous earnest. _Santissima_!" he cries out,
in addition, as a shock like that of a galvanic battery causes him to
shake in his saddle, "that's a _lightning eel_, for sure! They're all
round us, in scores, hundreds, thousands! Spur your horses! Force them
forward, anyway! On out of the water! A moment wasted, and we're
lost!"
While speaking, he digs the spurs into his own animal, with his voice
also urging it onward; they doing the same.
But spur and shout as they may, the terrified quadrupeds can scarce be
got to stir from the spot where first attacked by the electric eels.
For it is by these they are assailed, though Gaspar has given them a
slightly different name.
And just as he has said, the slippery creatures seem to be all around
them, coiling about the horses' legs, brushing against their bellies, at
intervals using the powerful, though invisible, weapon with which Nature
has provided them; while the scared quadrupeds, instead of dashing
onward to get clear of the danger, only pitch and plunge about, at
intervals standing at rest, as if benumbed, or shaking as though struck
by palsy--all three of them, breathing hard and loud, the smoke issuing
from their nostrils, with froth which falls in flakes, whitening the
water below.
Their riders are not much less alarmed: they too sensibly feeling
themselves affected by the magnetic influence. For the subtle current
passing through the bodies of their horses, in like manner, and almost
simultaneously enters their own. All now aware that they are in real
danger, are using their utmost efforts to get out of it by spurring,
shouting to their animals, and beating them with whatever they can lay
their hands on.
It is a desperate strife, a contest between them and the quadrupeds, as
they strive to force the latter forward, and from out of the perilous
place. Fortunately, it does not last long, or the end would be fatal.
After a short time, two of the three succeeded in reaching the bank:
these Gaspar and Cypriano; the gaucho, as he feels himself on firm
ground, crying out:--
"Thank the Lord for our deliverance!"
But scarce has the thanksgiving passed his lips, when, turning face
towards the stream, he sees what brings the pallor back into his cheeks,
and a trembling throughout his frame, as if he were still under the
battery of the electric eels. Ludwig, lagging behind, from being less
able to manage his mount, is yet several yards from the shore, and what
is worse, not drawing any nearer to it. Instead, his horse seems stuck
fast in the mud, and is making no effort to advance; but totters on his
limbs as though about to lose them! And the youth appears to have lost
all control not only of the animal but himself; all energy to act,
sitting lollingly in his saddle, as if torpid, or half-asleep!
At a glance Gaspar perceives his danger, knowing it of no common kind.
Both horse and rider are as powerless to leave that spot, as if held
upon it in the loop of a _lazo_, with its other end clutched in the
hands of a giant.
But a _lazo_ may also release them; and at this thought occurring to him
opportunely, the gaucho plucks his own from the horn of his _recado_,
and with a wind or two around his head, casts its running noose over
that of the imperilled youth. It drops down over his shoulders,
settling around both his arms, and tightening upon them, as Gaspar, with
a half wheel of his horse, starts off up the sloping acclivity. In
another instant, Ludwig is jerked clean out of his saddle, and falls
with a splash upon the water. Not to sink below its surface, however;
but be drawn lightly along it, till he is hoisted high, though not dry,
upon the bank.
But the gaucho's work is still unfinished; the horse has yet to be
rescued from his dangerous situation; a task, even more difficult than
releasing his rider. For all, it is not beyond the skill of Gaspar, nor
the strength of his own animal. Hastily unloosing his long, plaited
rope from the body of the boy, and readjusting the loop, he again flings
it forth; this time aiming to take in, not the head of Ludwig horse, but
the pommel and cantle of his high-back saddle. And just as aimed, so
the noose is seen to fall, embracing both. For Gaspar knows how to cast
a lasso, and his horse how to act when it is cast; the well-trained
animal, soon as he sees the uplifted arm go down again, sheering round
without any guidance of rein, and galloping off in the opposite
direction.
In the present case, his strength proves sufficient for the demand made
upon it, though this is great; and the debilitated animal in the water,
which can do nought to help itself, is dragged to the dry land nearly as
much dead as alive.
But all are saved, horses as well as riders. The unseen, but dangerous,
monsters are deprived of the prey they had come so near making capture
of; and Gaspar again, even more fervently than before, cries out in
gratitude--
"Thank the Lord for our deliverance!"