Gaspar allows no time to be lost, but instantly commences taking
measures for the _garzoneando_--whatever that may be. As yet neither of
his young companions has been told what it is, though they soon begin to
have a guess.
While they stand watching, they see him once more plunge his hand into
those capacious saddle-bags, where for a time it rummages about. When
drawn out again, it is seen to grasp a folded bundle of soft goods,
which, on being shaken open, shows to be a shirt. No common cotton
thing, however, but an affair of the finest linen, snow-white, with an
embroidered bosom and ruffles; in short, his gala shirt, such as are
worn by gauchos when they appear at _fiestas_ and _fandangoes_.
"A pity to use my best _camisa_ for such a purpose," he observes, while
in the act of unfolding it. "Still it won't likely get much damage; and
a wash, with a bit of starch, will set it all right again."
Then turning to Cypriano, he adds, "Now, senorito; be good enough to
strip off everything, and draw this over your shoulders."
Without a word of protest, or objection, the young Paraguayan does as
requested, and is soon inside the holiday shirt; his own having been
laid aside, as also his _jaqueta, calzoneras_, and every other article
of dress worn by him.
Meanwhile, Gaspar has been engaged getting ready several other things
for the change of costume intended; one of these being a silk
handkerchief of a bright scarlet colour, also taken out of the
inexhaustible _alparejas_. This he ties about Cypriano's neck, not as
an ordinary cravat, but loosely folded, so as to expose a breadth of
several inches all round.
The gaucho's next move is to snatch from off the fire one of the faggots
still only half consumed; from which with his knife he scrapes the red
coal, leaving the surface black, at the same time paring the stick to a
sharp point. With some wet gunpowder he further blackens it; then
placing the thick end against Cypriano's forehead, he binds it fast with
a piece of raw-hide thong, the last carried around and firmly knotted at
the back of the neck.
A few more touches and the toilet is complete; transforming Cypriano
into what, at a distance, might be supposed a soldier-crane! At all
events, the ostriches will so suppose him, as Gaspar knows; for he is
but copying a scheme often practised by South American Indians for the
capture of these shy birds.
"_Muy bien_!" he exclaims, as he stands contemplating his finished task.
"By my word, _muchacho mio_, you look the character to perfection. And
if you act it cleverly, as I know you can and will, we'll make breakfast
on something better than beans. Now, senorito; you're in costume to go
_garzoneando_."
Long ere this, Cypriano has come to comprehend what is required of him,
and is quite eager to have a try at the ruse so cunningly contrived.
Declaring himself ready to start out, it but remains to be decided what
weapon he ought to take with him. For they have the three kinds--gun,
_bolas_, and _lazo_; and in the use of the two last he is almost as
skilled as the gaucho himself.
"The gun might be the readiest and surest," remarks Gaspar; "and it will
be as well to have one with you, in case of your not getting a good
chance to cast either of the others. But just now the less noise that's
made the better. Who knows, but that some of these traitorous redskins
may be still straggling about? Hearing shots they'd be sure to come up
to us; which we don't want, though ever so much wishing to come up with
them. Therefore, I say, use either the balls or the rope."
"All the same to me," observes the young Paraguayan. "Which do you
think the better?"
"The _bolas_, decidedly. I've known the _lazo_ slip over an ostrich's
head, after the noose had been round its neck. But once the cord of the
_bolas_ gets a turn round the creature's shanks, it'll go to grass
without making another stride. Take this set of mine. As you see,
they're best _boliadores_, and you can throw them with surer aim."
The weapon which the gaucho hands to him differs from the ordinary
_bolas_, in having a longer stretch of cord between the balls; but
Cypriano is himself as well acquainted with this kind as with the other,
and can cast them as skilfully. Taking hold of the weapon, along with
his double-barrelled gun, and concealing both as he best can under the
gaucho's shirt, he starts off upon the stalk; for he now knows what he
has to do, without any further instruction from Gaspar. It is simply a
question of getting near enough to one of the birds to make capture of
it with the _boliadores_; or, failing this, bring it down with a
bullet--one barrel of his gun being loaded with ball.
As he goes off, Caspar and Ludwig looking after him can see that his
chances of success are good. For by this the _rheas_ have pretty well
recovered from their scare, and are again tranquilly striding about.
Moreover, they have moved somewhat nearer to the bank of the _riacho_,
where a bordering of leafy evergreens offers to the stalker cover of the
best kind. Taking advantage of it, he, in the guise of a _garzon_,
steps briskly on, and steals in among the bushes. There he is for a
time unseen, either by those watching him from the summit of the knoll,
or the creatures being stalked. The latter have already noticed the
counterfeit, but without showing any signs of fear; no doubt supposing
it to be what it pretends--a bird as themselves, with neck and legs as
long as their own. But no enemy; for often have they passed over that
same plain, and fed in a friendly way alongside soldier-cranes--scores
of them. Even when this solitary specimen again appears by the skirting
of the scrub within less than twenty paces of them, they do not seem at
all alarmed, though possibly a little surprised at its being there all
alone.
Nor do they make any attempt to stir from the spot, till a movement on
the part of the _garzon_, with some gestures that seem odd to them,
excite their suspicions afresh; then raising their heads, and craning
out their long necks, they regard it with wondering glances. Only for
an instant; when seeming at last to apprehend danger, the birds utter a
hiss, as if about to beat a retreat.
For one of them it is too late, the cock, which chances to be nearest
the bushes, and who before he can lift a leg feels both embraced by
something which lashes them tightly together; while at the same time
something else hits him a hard heavy blow, bowling him over upon the
grass, where he lies stunned and senseless.
"_Bueno! Bravo_!" simultaneously shout Gaspar and Ludwig, the two
together rushing down from the hillock, and on for the prostrate _rhea_;
while the counterfeit crane comes forth from the bushes to meet them, as
he draws near, saying:--
"I could have shot the hen, but for what you said, Gaspar, about making
a noise."
"No matter for the hen," rejoins the gaucho. "We don't want her just
now. This beauty will not only give us enough meat for breakfast, but
provide dinners and suppers for at least a couple of days to come."
So saying, he draws his knife across the _rhea's_ throat, to make sure
before releasing its legs from the thong. After which the _boliadores_
are detached; and the huge carcase, almost as heavy as that of a fatted
calf, is carried in triumph to the camp.