ON THE RANCH
"WHAT is that you have, Manuel?" cried Francisco, to one of the _peons_,
five days later, as he sat under an ombú tree in the garden on his
uncle's _estancia_, playing with some tame _tierra_ birds, that kept the
garden clean of worms.
Manuel was one of the house _peons_ and he had a queer looking machine
with a long snout under his arm.
"Why, this is an ant destroyer, Señorito; would you care to watch me
kill ants?"
For answer, Francisco ran eagerly to his side and the two walked toward
the peach orchard. Francisco had had five days of rest from his tiresome
ride the day of the sale, and he was now ready for any new adventure.
They had arrived at the Tres Arroyas ranch three days before and he had
made friends with every one connected with the house and gardens. The
heat had been too great to allow of any wider acquaintance, which would
have included the gauchos, or cowboys; at least the nearer ones, for the
Tres Arroyas ranch was very large, and Francisco never could have known
them all. José had told him that one could ride all day from the centre
and not reach its boundaries.
"Why do you use that to kill ants?" he asked of Manuel. "Our _servienta_
at home uses hot water when they get into the _patio_."
"Ah, yes, Señorito, but these country ants come in such armies it would
take a geyser of boiling water to kill them. Now, we are here in the
orchard; you can see how they destroy things."
Curious rivulets of tawny brown ran here and there as far as the eye
could reach.
"Last spring these ants fairly cleaned our peach trees of their tender
young leaves, and it was only by continuous labour that we exterminated
them. Now, look at them! Thick as ever."
"But how can you kill millions of ants with so small a machine?"
"Well, I can't this afternoon. I brought the machine here to place it
and get it ready; then early in the morning I will tap on the iron bars
of your window and you must follow me."
It was scarcely more than dawn the next morning when Francisco heard the
gentle tapping on the _rejas_ at his window. He had forgotten his
engagement with Manuel, and started up in bewilderment. The sight of
the _peon_ reminded him and he hurried into his garments and was soon
with Manuel in the crisp morning air.
"A little more of the sun above the horizon and we would have been too
late for to-day," said the swarthy Spaniard, as he busied himself
lighting the machine.
"Ants are early risers, and it's only by getting up before they have
made their morning toilets that we can manage to make war on them."
Francisco laughed at the idea of an ant bathing and dressing, and bent
over on his knees beside Manuel who was scratching a match to light the
dry rubbish in the cylindrical can, in one end of which was a small
amount of sulphur. He screwed a lid on the other end, inserted the snout
into an ant hole and with a pair of bellows he sent the volumes of
sulphurous smoke into the labyrinthine passages of the ant houses.
"Look, look," excitedly cried Francisco, as quantities of smoke were
seen issuing from many holes, here and there, within a radius of several
hundred yards; showing how intricate and many winding are the
underground passages of these industrious pests.
"Yes, there won't be many ants getting out to work this morning. But in
a short while they will be just as bad as ever."
They went from one part of the orchard to another until the sun was too
high, and they were obliged to stop until another morning. Francisco
learned, as they walked toward the house, that these ants are the worst
pest, excepting the locust, that the farmer has to combat. They
particularly delight in carrying away whole beds of strawberries and
they often come in armies that swarm over every obstacle in their path.
As they entered the house, Francisco noticed that his uncle had had
_café_ and was in his riding breeches ready for a morning gallop.
"May I go with you, Uncle Juan?" cried Francisco.
"Hey! That's spirit for you! Rode yourself to fragments a few days ago
and ready for another trial to-day. _Che_," clapping his hands as a
_peon_ appeared.
"Saddle Barboza for the Señorito, _inmediatamente_."
Francisco gulped his _café_ and nibbled at a biscuit, but he was too
excited to eat more.
When the horses were brought to the door, his eyes gleamed, for he saw
that the smaller horse, that was to be his to ride while he was on the
_estancia_, was resplendent in a new saddle, bridle and bit. The servant
brought a set of solid silver spurs and smart leather riding boots which
he assisted Francisco to put on, and which he told him his uncle had had
sent with the saddle and outfit from the city.
The stirrups were of silver, beautifully chased, and the head stall,
ornaments for the brow band which covers most of the horse's face, and
the _pretel_ bangles that jingled across the horse's breast, were all of
the same valuable metal. It was indeed the outfit of a gentleman, and on
Barboza, the sleek bay horse, with the neat, light hoof of the prairie
steed, it seemed an equipment fit for a prince. His uncle appeared at
the mounting block and Francisco kissed him again and again as he
thanked him for the lovely gifts.
"Hey! Hey! We can't waste time thus, my boy. I am going over to the west
of the _estancia_ to inspect some horse branding that is to take place
to-day. The _mayor domo_[16] will follow me later."
They cantered off across the corral and were soon on the open plains. On
and on, over the pastures, some of them red, like battle grounds with
the scarlet _margarita_ or verbena; when again they would reach a huge
patch of white ones that looked at a distance like snow.
"What was that, Uncle?" exclaimed Francisco, startled, as a large bird
with yellow breast and gray wings screeched across their path, emitting
a harsh cry of several syllables.
"That is the _bicho-feo_."[17]
"Why do they call it ugly bug? It is a bird."
"Because its cry is not unlike those words. Listen again and you will
hear how plainly he says it. It is a bird of prey and lives on smaller
birds. That bird just fluttering up out of the grass at your left is a
scissors bird."
"Oh, I know why. See how its two long tail feathers clip the air like
scissors as it flies."
They passed numbers of small gray owls; and once Francisco spied a flock
of flamingoes across the water of a small lake. Occasionally they passed
a shepherd's hut; but now they were getting on beyond the sheep grazing
pastures and great herds of cattle came in sight.
Francisco leaped in his saddle with joy. "Oh! Uncle, are we coming to
the cowboys?"
His boyish enthusiasm had pictured them on their native heath so often,
and now he was really to see them! He had watched them when they came to
the city on holidays and walked along the Paseo de Julio, where the pawn
shops, with their tempting offers of silver sheathed knives, gaily
striped _ponchos_, and silver mounted _rebenques_[18] draw them as honey
draws bees; but to see them on the plains,--that was what he wanted!
[Illustration: "SOON AFTER HIS EAGER QUESTION THEY PASSED A GROUP OF
THEM."]
He did not have to call on his reserve of patience; indeed, soon after
his eager question they passed a group of them, crouched on the ground
around a fire of dry thistles, over which hung a can, suspended by wire
from a tripod, and which held the water for their morning _máte_. They
arose to their feet as the Colonel galloped past and greeted him with
_vivas_.
"Do they often use those murderous looking knives on each other, Uncle?"
asked Francisco; the sight of their weapons having subdued his zeal
somewhat. They were rougher looking men in their working clothes than
when they came to the city dressed for a lark.
"Seldom, Niño; unless they are intoxicated. They are not very civilized
and they have no education whatever. They fairly live on their horses'
backs and cannot be persuaded to do any work that must be done outside
their saddles."
They were, indeed, fierce in appearance. Their knee-high boots were made
of rawhide; they wore no trousers, but a striped blanket held around the
waist with a belt, then brought between the legs and fastened again to
the belt in front, formed the covering of the lower part of the body.
This is called the _chirapa_ and when walking it gives the wearer a
bulky appearance, not unlike a Turk.
As these were _peon gauchos_, or low-class cowboys, they were not so
picturesque as the gentleman _gaucho_, who is entirely different in
appearance and character.
The _mayor domo_ rode up to them within the first hour, and his costume
was that of the _caballero_ class or gentleman _gaucho_.
He also wore the _chirapa_, but it was over long white cotton trousers,
the edges of which were embroidered and finished with hand-made lace.
Instead of the rawhide belt of the _peon gaucho_, his was a strip of
hogskin doubled, the inside forming a pocket, which was stitched into
compartments, these being made secure with clasps made of silver coins;
from all of this hung a festoon of coins encircling the entire waist.
The large clasp in the front was of solid silver, carved to represent
the crest of Argentina. Several knives were thrust through his elaborate
belt, and his riding whip was of closely braided rawhide, with a heavy
silver handle.
Francisco eyed him curiously, but with evident admiration. This was more
to his liking, and he rode between this gentleman of the Pampas and his
soldier uncle with great pride. Almost, he was persuaded to be a
_gaucho_, but a side glance at his idolized uncle brought quick
repentance to his heart.
How could he be so disloyal to his family traditions! A _soldado_,[19]
of course, that was his destiny.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 16: Superintendent.]
[Footnote 17: Beech-o fay'-o.]
[Footnote 18: Riding whips.]
[Footnote 19: Soldier.]