Under the shadow of the _algarobias_ the trackers sleep undisturbed.
Ludwig, however, has troubled dreams, in which gymnoti play a
conspicuous part. He imagines himself still floundering amidst these
monsters, assailed from all sides by their galvanic batteries, and that
they have dragged him down into the mud, where he is fast getting
asphyxiated. When in his last gasp, as it were, he is relieved, by
awaking from his uneasy slumbers; which he does suddenly, and with a
terrified cry.
Finding it has been all a dream, and glad to think it so, he says
nothing; and the others not having heard his half-stifled cry, soon
again falls asleep. This time his slumber is lighter, as also more
profound; and, on the whole, he has a tolerable night's rest; in the
morning feeling fairly refreshed, as likewise do Cypriano and Gaspar.
All three are astir a good half-hour before there is any sign of day;
and their camp-fire is rekindled. This not for culinary purposes--since
they have nothing to be cooked--but rather because the air is chilly
cold, as it often is in the tropics, and they need to warm themselves
before setting about aught else.
When warmed, however, they begin to think of breakfast, as also to talk
about it. What is it to be, or of what consist, are the questions which
interest them without being easily answered. There are the _algarobia_
beans; but their skillet has been lost along with the kettle, and there
is left them no utensil in which these legumes might be boiled. True,
they can roast them in the ashes; but Gaspar still clings to the hope
that something more toothful may turn up. As the early dawn is the best
time to find wild animals abroad, both birds and quadrupeds--the best
also for approaching them--the gaucho feels pretty confident either one
or other will stray within reach of their guns, bolas, or lazos.
In the end it proves that his confidence has not been misplaced. Just
as the first red rays of the Aurora are reflected from the tops of the
trees around their camp, more faintly lighting up the lower level of the
pampa beyond, Gaspar, peering through a break between the branches of
the _algarobias_, sees a brace of large birds moving about over the
plain. Not soldier-cranes, though creatures with necks and legs quite
as long; for they are _rheas_.
"_Gracios a Dios_!" is the gaucho's gratified exclamation at sight of
them; continuing in low tone and speaking over his shoulder, "A couple
of _avestruz_!"
The others, gliding up to him, and looking through the leaves, also
behold the birds, seeing them from head to foot. For they are out upon
the open ground, striding to and fro, now and then pausing to pick up
some morsel of food, or it may be but a pebble to aid in the digestion
of what they have already eaten. While thus engaged, they are gradually
drawing nearer to the bank of the _riacho_, as also the edge of the
_algarobia_ grove in which the trackers are encamped. Their proximity
to the latter most interests those in the camp, and all three instantly
lay hold of their guns, which luckily have been reloaded, two of them
with ball. Gaspar, foremost of the trio, has got his barrel through the
branches, and, seeing that the _rheas_ are now within bullet-range, is
about to blaze away at the one nearest, which chances to be the cock
bird, when the latter, suddenly elevating its head, and uttering a loud
hiss succeeded by a snort, as from a badly-blown trumpet, turns tail and
makes off over the plain; its mate turning simultaneously, and legging
it alongside. All this to the surprise of the gaucho; who knows that he
has not exposed his person and sees that neither have the others, nor
yet made any noise to account for the behaviour of the birds.
"What can have frightened them?" is the question he would ask, when
casting his eyes upward he perceives what has done it--their smoke of
their camp-fire! The blue stream ascending over the tops of the trees,
as if out of a chimney, had just then, for the first time, been caught
sight of by the ostriches, sending them off in quick scare. Nor strange
it should, being a spectacle to which the wild denizens of the Chaco are
not accustomed, or only familiar with as denoting an enemy near--their
greatest enemy, man.
"_Maldita sea_!" exclaims the gaucho, as the birds show their backs to
him, an exclamation morally the reverse of that he uttered on seeing
them with heads turned the opposite way. "That confounded fire! what a
pity we kindled it! the thing's done us out of our breakfast. Stay!
no."
The negative ejaculation comes from his perceiving that the ostriches,
instead of rushing onwards in long rapid strides, as they had started,
are gradually shortening step and slackening the pace. And while he
continues looking after them, they again come to a stop, and stand
gazing back at the dark blue pillar of smoke rising spirally against the
lighter blue background of sky. But now they appear to regard it less
with alarm than curiosity; and even this after a time wearing off, they
once more lower their beaks, and return to browsing, just as a couple of
common geese, or rather a goose and gander. For all, they do not yet
seem quite tranquillised, every now and then their heads going up with a
suddenness, which tells that their former feeling of security is not
restored; instead, replaced by uneasy suspicions that things are not as
they ought to be.
"Our guns will be of no use now," says Gaspar, laying his own aside. "I
know the nature of _avestruz_ well enough to say for certain, that,
after the scare they've had they'll stay shy for several hours, and
'twill be impossible to approach them; that is, near enough for the
longest-range gun we've got. And to run them down with our horses would
be to lose a day's journey at least. We can't afford that, for the sake
of a bit of breakfast. No, 'twould never do. We'll have to go without,
or else, after all, break our fast upon these beans."
Saying which, he glances up to the _algarobias_, from which the long
siliques droop down in profusion, more plentiful than tempting to him.
"_Caspita_!" he resumes, after a pause, once more bending his eyes
covetously upon the birds, and as if an idea had suddenly occurred to
him, "I think I know of a way by which we may circumvent these two tall
stalkers."
"How?" eagerly asks Cypriano.
"By going at them--_garzoneando_."
"_Garzoneando_!" exclaims Ludwig in echo. "Good Gaspar, whatever do you
mean by that?"
"You'll see, young master, soon as I've made things ready for it. And
your cousin here, he's the fittest for the part to be played. I'd
undertake it myself, but I'm a bit too bulky to counterfeit a creature
of such slender proportions as the _garzon soldado_; while Senor
Cypriano's figure will just suit to a nicety."
Neither of the two youths has the slightest idea of what the gaucho
designs doing; but, accustomed to his quaint, queer ways, and knowing
that whatever he intends is pretty sure to be something of service to
them--as likely to have a successful issue--they await his action with
patience and in silence.