I sat there till it was very dark, and the longer I sat the colder and
stiffer I grew, yet I felt no disposition to walk farther. At length
a large owl, flapping down close to my head, gave utterance to a long
hiss, followed by a sharp, clicking sound, ending with a sudden loud,
laugh-like cry. The nearness of it startled me, and, looking up, I saw a
twinkling yellow light gleam for a moment across the wide, black plain,
then disappear. A few fireflies were flitting about the grass, but I
felt sure the gleam just witnessed proceeded from a fire; and after
vainly trying to catch sight of it again from my seat on the ground, I
rose and walked on, keeping before me a particular star shining directly
over the spot where that transient glimmer had appeared. Presently, to
my great joy, I spied it again in the same place, and felt convinced
that it was the gleam of firelight shining from the open door or window
of some _rancho_ or _estancia_ house. With renewed hope and energy I
hastened on, the light increasing in brightness as I progressed; and,
after half an hour's brisk walking, I found myself approaching a human
dwelling of some kind. I could make out a dark mass of trees and bushes,
a long, low house, and, nearer to me, a corral, or cattle-pen, of tall,
upright posts. Now, however, when a refuge seemed so close, the fear
of the terrible, savage dogs kept on most of these cattle-breeding
establishments made me hesitate. Unless I wished to run the risk of
being shot, it was necessary to shout loudly to make my approach known,
yet by shouting I would inevitably bring a pack of huge, frantic dogs
upon me; and the horns of the angry bull I had encountered were less
terrible to contemplate than the fangs of these powerful, truculent
brutes. I sat down on the ground to consider the position, and presently
heard the clatter of approaching hoofs. Immediately afterwards three men
rode past me, but did not see me, for I was crouching down behind some
scrubby bushes. When the horsemen approached the house the dogs rushed
forth to assail them, and their loud, fierce barking, and the wild
shouts of some person from the house calling them off, were enough to
make a dismounted man nervous. However, now was my only chance, and,
starting up, I hurried on towards the noise. As I passed the corral the
brutes became aware of my approach, and instantly turned their attention
on me. I wildly shouted. _“Ave Maria,”_ then, revolver in hand, stood
awaiting the onset; but when they were near enough for me to see that
the pack was composed of eight or ten huge yellow mastiff-like brutes,
my courage failed, and I fled to the corral, where, with an agility
surpassing that of a wild cat, so great was my terror, I climbed up
a post and placed myself beyond their reach. With the dogs furiously
barking under me, I renewed my shouts of _“Ave Maria”_--the proper thing
to do when you approach a strange house in these pious latitudes. After
some time the men approached--four of them--and asked me who I was and
what I did there. I gave an account of myself, then asked whether it
would be safe for me to descend. The master of the house took the hint,
and drove his faithful protectors off, after which I came down from my
uncomfortable perch.
He was a tall, well-made, but rather fierce-looking gaucho, with keen
black eyes, and a heavy black beard. He seemed suspicious of me--a very
unusual thing in a native's house, and asked me a great many searching
questions; and finally, still with some reluctance in his manner, he
invited me into the kitchen. There I found a big fire blazing merrily on
the raised clay hearth in the centre of the large room, and seated near
it an old grey-haired woman, a middle-aged, tall, dark-skinned dame in a
purple dress--my host's wife; a pale, pretty young woman, about sixteen
years old, and a little girl. When I sat down my host began once more
questioning me; but he apologised for doing so, saying that my arrival
on foot seemed a very extraordinary circumstance. I told them how I had
lost my horse, saddle, and _poncho_ in the wood, and then related my
encounter with the bull. They listened to it all with very grave
faces, but I am sure it was as good as a comedy to them. Don Sinforiano
Alday--the owner of the place, and my questioner--made me take off my
coat to exhibit the bruises the bull's hoofs had inflicted on my arms
and shoulders. He was anxious, even after that, to know something more
about me, and so to satisfy him I gave him a brief account of some of my
adventures in the country, down to my arrest with Marcos Marcó, and
how that plausible gentleman had made his escape from the magistrate's
house. That made them all laugh, and the three men I had seen arrive,
and who appeared to be casual visitors, became very friendly, frequently
passing me the rum-bottle with which they were provided.
After sipping _maté_ and rum for half an hour we settled down to discuss
a plentiful supper of roast and boiled beef and mutton, with great
basins of well-seasoned broth to wash it down. I consumed an amazing
quantity of meat, as much, in fact, as any gaucho there; and to eat as
much as one of these men at a sitting is a feat for an Englishman to
boast about. Supper done, I lit a cigar and leant back against the wall,
enjoying many delightful sensations all together--warmth, rest, and
hunger satisfied, and the subtle fragrance of that friend and comforter,
divine tobacco. On the farther side of the room my host was meanwhile
talking to the other men in low tones. Occasional glances in my
direction seemed to show that they still harboured some suspicion of me,
or that they had some grave matters to converse about unsuitable for a
stranger to hear.
At length Alday rose and addressed me. “Señor, if you are ready to rest
I will now conduct you to another room, where you can have some rugs and
_ponchos_ to make a bed with.”
“If my presence here is not inconvenient,” I returned, “I would rather
remain and smoke by the fire.”
“You see, señor,” he said, “I have arranged to meet some neighbours and
friends, who are coming here to discuss matters of importance with me.
I am even now expecting their arrival, and the presence of a stranger
would scarcely allow us to talk freely over our affairs.”
“Since you wish it, I will go to any part of the house you may think
proper to put me in,” I returned.
I rose, not very cheerfully, I must say, from my comfortable seat before
the fire, to follow him out, when the tramp of galloping horses came to
our ears.
“Follow me this way--quick,” exclaimed my impatient conductor; but just
as I reached the door about a dozen mounted men dashed up close to us
and burst forth in a perfect storm of yells. Instantly all those who
were in the kitchen sprang to their feet uttering loud exclamations and
looking greatly excited. Then came from the mounted men another
wild outburst as they all yelled together, _“Viva el General Santa
Coloma--viv--a.”_
The other three men then rushed from the kitchen, and in excited tones
began to ask if anything fresh had happened. Meanwhile I was left
standing at the door by myself. The women appeared almost as excited as
the men, except the girl, who had glanced at me with shy compassion in
her large, dark eyes when I had been roused from my seat by the fire.
Taking advantage of the general excitement, I now repaid that kindly
look with one of admiration. She was a quiet, bashful girl, her pale
face crowned with a profusion of black hair; and while she stood there
waiting, apparently unconcerned by the hubbub outside, she looked
strangely pretty, her homemade cotton gown, of limp and scanty material,
clinging closely to her limbs so as to display her slender, graceful
form to the best advantage. Presently, seeing me looking at her, she
came near, and, touching my arm in passing, told me in a whisper to go
back to my seat by the fire. I gladly obeyed her, for my curiosity was
now thoroughly aroused, and I wished to know the meaning of this outcry
which had thrown these phlegmatic gauchos into such a frenzied state of
excitement. It looked rather like a political row--but of General Santa
Coloma I had never heard, and it seemed curious that a name so seldom
mentioned should be the rallying cry of revolutionists.
In a few minutes the men all streamed back into the kitchen. Then
the master of the house, Alday, his face on fire with emotion, thrust
himself into the midst of the crowd.
“Boys, are you mad!” he cried. “Do you not see a stranger here? What is
the meaning of all this outcry if nothing new has happened?”
A roar of laughter from the new-comers greeted this outburst, after
which they raised another yell of “_Viva Santa Colomal_!”
Alday became furious. “Speak, madmen!” he shouted; “tell me, in God's
name, what has happened--or do you wish to ruin everything with your
imprudence?”
“Listen, Alday,” replied one of the men, “and know how little we need
fear the presence of a stranger. Santa Coloma, the hope of Uruguay, the
saviour of his country, who will shortly deliver us out of the power of
Colorado assassins and pirates--Santa Coloma has come! He is here in our
midst; he has seized on El Molino del Yí, and has raised the standard
of revolt against the infamous government of Montevideo! _Viva Santa
Colomal_!”
Alday flung his hat off, and, falling on his knees, remained for some
moments in silent prayer, his hands clasped before him. The others all
snatched off their hats and stood silent, grouped about him. Then he
stood up, and all together joined in a _viva_, which far surpassed in
its deafening power their previous performances.
My host now appeared to be almost beside himself with excitement.
“What,” he cried, “my General come! Do you tell me that Santa Coloma has
come? Oh, friends, the great God has remembered our suffering country
at last! He has grown weary of looking on man's injustice, the
persecutions, the bloodshed, the cruelties that have almost driven us
mad. I cannot realise it! Let me go to my General, that these eyes that
have watched for his coming may see him and rejoice. I cannot wait for
daylight--this very night must I ride to El Molino, that I may see him
and touch him with my hands, and know that it is not a dream.”
His words were welcomed with a shout of applause, and the other men all
immediately announced their intention to accompany him to El Molino, a
small town on the Yí some leagues distant.
Some of the men now went out to catch fresh horses, while Alday busied
himself in bringing out a store of old broadswords and carbines from
their concealment in some other part of the house. The men, talking
excitedly together, occupied themselves in scouring and sharpening the
rusty weapons, while the women cooked a fresh supply of meat for the
last comers; and in the meantime I was permitted to remain unnoticed by
the fire, smoking peacefully.