CHAPTER XIV

BACK TO THE RANCHO

Great indeed was the happiness of the trio who had made such an eventful escape from the gang who had attacked them. As they stood in the stern of their captured vessel, listening for a time to the shouts of rage which followed them, and the occasional pistol shots which echoed down the river, each of the three was deeply grateful for what had been a most lucky escape, and Dudley and Mr. Blunt in particular felt that they were specially fortunate.

"We can never hope for such luck again," said Mr. Blunt, as he stood, tiller in hand. "Those rascals would have murdered us as we lay in the cabin had it not been for the warning we received. Come, Mr. Joyce, tell us the whole tale again, and how it came about that you were in this country, and took passage with those men."

Thus encouraged to speak out, Harold sat on the edge of the rail, and for some ten minutes described all that had happened. Nor did he neglect to commence from the very beginning, for as yet his story had come to the ears of his two listeners in scraps only, interrupted by the shouts of the enemy. Manfully, therefore, with no attempt to gloss over the painful incident which had been the commencement of all his troubles, and of Dudley's, he told how he had stood aside and seen Dudley suffer, how remorse had promptly attacked him, and how he had made a clean breast of his fault at home, and then, with the consent and encouragement of his father and mother, had come out to Montevideo to find Dudley. His listeners knew in what manner the strange meeting had been brought about, but they were not aware of the fact that Harold had arrived in Montevideo to hear that Mr. Bradshaw, to whom Dudley had been sent out, was dead, and that there was no trace of the lad he sought; he had disappeared.

Those were days when mails travelled from South America often enough by sailing vessels, for there were very few steamers, and it happened that the letter which Dudley had written on his arrival in the country, to his guardian, had reached home after Harold had set out. Thus it was that the lad found himself seriously embarrassed at the first stage of his journey.

"I could hear nothing of Dudley," he said, "and so, after idling for a few days, I came, on the advice of a rancher, up into this district. It was a piece of pure bad luck taking passage with such a gang."

"Your pardon! It was a piece of amazing good fortune," contradicted Mr. Blunt. "For us, I mean, of course; for, lad, had you not come up with those fellows, had that rascally English sailor not been one of them, and, above all, had you not had the courage and resolution to do as you did, your old comrade and I would not be here now. No, no more, Harold! Dudley and I will listen to no more from you. We know the whole story, and it is clear to us what has happened. Lad, there are many people who get out of line, who do mean and contemptible tricks. I am not attempting to excuse your faults, let me tell you, but, as I say, many people sin, and go on sinning. You have learned a lesson from this fault. You have turned over a new leaf, and as a man who prides himself on his knowledge of human nature, I say definitely, without fear of contradiction, that the lad who can make up for his fault as you have done, who can face the angry friends of the late captain of the school, wrongfully accused, who can declare his own guilt to his parents, and then, not content, can follow out here, covering so many miles, with the one purpose of meeting that old friend and asking his forgiveness, is one who has good in him. You have behaved nobly, Harold. From this moment Dudley and I are your fast friends. We will prove it if you wish. Come with us to the estancia and see the life of the gauchos. You shall have a post under my manager, and pay in proportion. There, lad, it's a real pleasure to meet you."

The tall, kindly owner of the estancia stretched out one hand and gripped Harold's. Mr. Blunt was a sympathetic man who seemed to be able to dip under the surface, to read the thoughts and feelings of those with whom he came in contact. There was some magnetic attraction about him which drew young fellows to him, which made him their friend almost from the first moment, and led them to confide in him, just as Dudley had done so soon after their chance meeting. Was it extraordinary, therefore, if Harold Joyce fell under the same spell? These were some of the first really kind words he had heard for many a day. The lad was deliriously happy. His troubles had been sliding rapidly from his shoulders, and in an hour, it seemed, he had regained his old friend, and had won another. He gripped the extended hand, shook it eagerly, and then burst into tears, tears which he stifled in an instant.

"I came out here to be a man, to act like one if possible, and to show that I was not altogether bad," he said, steadying his voice. "If you and Dud will have me, why----"

"You'll come, old chap," chimed in Dudley.

"I will. It will be ripping."

"Then that is settled," said Mr. Blunt. "Now I think it is high time we discussed some other matter. We seem to have forgotten that we are sailing down the Paraná in a strange vessel. The question is, shall we drop anchor and wait till morning, or shall we carry on down to Buenos Ayres?"

"The question is settled already," burst in Dudley, "for we cannot anchor if we wish to do so. You forget that the gang who attacked us cut their cable when we were escaping, and that you yourself tossed the spare anchor into the boat which came alongside. So far as I can see there is nothing to be done but to carry on till morning."

As it happened, however, the voyage downstream which the trio had been compelled to make was shortly afterwards brought to a sudden conclusion. It was densely dark, and in consequence steering was impossible, for it was seldom that Mr. Blunt caught a glimpse of the banks. Indeed, some few minutes later the boat grounded upon a bank of mud, coming to a standstill so gently that those aboard were hardly aware of the circumstances.

"The difficulty vanishes," laughed Mr. Blunt, when all were sure of what had occurred. "We may just as well make ourselves comfortable for the remainder of the night, for we are fast ashore. I don't think we need fear a second attack from our enemies, for they are far behind us, and if they venture to follow will probably run past us without even seeing our spars. But I fancy they will be too busy looking to their own safety. They know very well that I shall take steps to have a search made for them, though it is little enough that one can expect from such action. Still, there are police down at Buenos Ayres, and some also at the settlements lying between us and that city. I shall make complaints, and try to stir the authorities up to some sort of action. But I fear little will come of it, for the cities and settlements are too busy to spare men for police duties, as a rule, while the country is so vast, there are such numbers of unregistered foreigners in it, that arrest of evildoers becomes a rare occurrence. Still, I will make my complaints, and will then return to the estancia. For the next few months I will devote myself to the building of forts, for I know now that the rascal who has on former occasions caused attacks to be made on me is still in the country. He will not rest after this. There are a hundred cut-throats to be had in the ports of Montevideo and Buenos Ayres, broken down gauchos and other ruffians. We must make preparation to meet them in case a second band is organized. And now for a sleep. As I said, there is practically no fear of interruption, for now that those rascals have failed they will be eager to make good their escape."

Feeling secure against further attack, and having assured themselves that their vessel was hard and fast on the mud, the trio lowered the sail and stepped down into the cabin so lately occupied by the Italian and his rascals. The door had been left wide open, and as a consequence the pokey little place had been thoroughly aired. However, when the lamp had been set alight, the feeble illumination it gave showed to some extent the character of its late inhabitants. Tin pannikins, some half-filled with spirit and water, still lay on the table, while the stone jar had rolled on to the floor, where it had smashed into a hundred pieces, scattering them and what little was left of the contents all over the cabin. Dudley at once took a broom, which he found on the deck, and swept the boards clean. Then some sacking was procured, and within a little while all were fast asleep, Harold hugging himself closely in some sacking; for the night had been a little cool, and his soaking garments had not conduced to warmth.

A brilliant sun greeted the trio as they came on deck on the following morning.

"As I thought," said Mr. Blunt in tones of satisfaction. "We are ashore on the mud, and should be able to push the vessel off with poles. No damage has been done to our craft, and we shall soon have an opportunity of acting as navigators. But what about some breakfast? Come, Harold, you shall be our cook to-day, and Dudley shall supervise your work. He is a practised hand after his life on the pampas."

The two young fellows ran off to see what the ship's larder contained, and very soon a column of black smoke was rising from the funnel which protruded from the galley. As for Mr. Blunt, while he waited the results of his two young friends' efforts, he carefully surveyed his surroundings, and was overjoyed to see, a mile or more up the river, and almost wholly out of sight round a gentle bend, the boat which he and Dudley had chartered.

"Then I feel fairly sure of obtaining my goods again," he said, as he watched the craft. "I see no one moving aboard her, and as she, too, has run ashore, I fancy the rascals who were aboard her have decamped. But they shall hear from me later, and in the meanwhile I have a bone to pick with the crew of both vessels. It seems to me that they must have known of this proposed attack, and have absented themselves purposely."

This was, indeed, the fact, for unknown to him the crew of the boat he had chartered had slipped ashore across the gangway soon after the hands he had hired had made their way to the saloons; while the men who manned the boat on which he found himself now had dropped into their small boat and followed the same plan.

It was in the dinghy which they had used to get ashore that his own hands had put out into the river in order to join their accomplices.

"Breakfast!" shouted Dudley, appearing at the door of the galley in his shirt sleeves, and bearing a smoking pan in his hands. "Now, Harold, pass Mr. Blunt the bill of fare and get into the cabin to lay the cloth. We shall want forks and knives."

Harold Joyce, his face radiant, a merry smile on his lips, issued on to the deck, slate in hand, and ran to Mr. Blunt. A disreputable-looking object he appeared, too, for he had merely a shirt, socks, and overall trousers to clothe him, and they were by no means improved by his immersion during the night.

"Fish first, sir?" he cried, as he pushed his slate before Mr. Blunt and pointed to the letters scrawled in chalk. "We found a good supply, which was quite fresh. Then we come to eggs, poached or boiled, sir?"

"'Pon my word, trust youngsters to look after a meal!" laughed the owner of the estancia. "And what a feast it is, to be sure! Fish, eggs, toast and coffee! A bill of fare fit for a king! Boiled, please, Harold, and if there is a good supply I can manage two. By the way, lad, what about that wound? I had forgotten it entirely, for you have not even mentioned it."

Harold flushed to his eyes again. "It's nothing at all," he said hastily. "It did not even keep me awake. However, you may see it if you wish."

His shirt was all stained with blood about one shoulder. Mr. Blunt therefore at once helped him to slip the garment off. Then he examined the wound critically; living as he did miles away from a settlement, he had in course of time become quite accomplished in the art of treating hurts, for the gauchos often came to grief.

"I should not make so little of it as you do," he said with one of his friendly smiles. "However, the ball has done no great damage. It struck the very edge, slipped under the skin, and flew out again. The wound is little more than skin deep, it is true, but none the less painful. As soon as we get back to our own vessel I will dress it, for I have nothing with me here. Now let us have that breakfast; I admit that I have a huge appetite."

It was a merry party which sat down in the tiny cabin below, and the jollity of the trio was not a little due to the good fare placed before them. Dudley had long since had lessons in camp cooking from Pietro and the other gauchos, and could poach an egg so well that even the most delicate appetite would be tempted by it. He was an expert in the manufacture of steaming coffee, and with Harold's help had produced an excellent repast.

"It was my first experience of cooking," laughed Harold, as he tackled a piece of fish, "and I confess I like the work. It interests me, and I shall devote heaps of time to it. Then I mean to learn how to ride these American horses, and how to shoot. Dud has been telling me something about it all, and I am sure I shall enjoy the life of the rancho."

"Take your lessons from him, then," answered Mr. Blunt. "He can shoot, as even the gauchos admit, and they are very grudging with their praise in that respect. He has a good seat in the saddle, and above all he knows how to work with the men. That is a great secret. The manager, the officer, even the proprietor of a business, who has a way with his men, who studies their comfort, respects them, and gains their sympathy, while at the same time insisting on obedience, gains as well their respect. You must make that your aim, lad. Show the men that you can ride and shoot, that you are not afraid even of Indians, and then they will be friends of yours. That reminds me; there are Indians near the rancho. You will have to expect sudden raids, and there is not the slightest doubt that now we who live on the rancho shall carry our lives in our hands. Now, does that deter you?"

Harold shook his head vigorously.

"If you and Dudley are there, that is good enough for me," he answered briskly. "I shall do my best to share in the fighting if the Indians come. But tell me more about them, please. Dudley mentioned something about a raid which was made quite recently."

As they discussed the meal Mr. Blunt outlined their doings on the rancho since he and Dudley had arrived from England, and did not fail to give due praise to his young manager. The tale opened Harold Joyce's eyes very wide indeed, and after that he looked at his old friend with increasing admiration, and swore once again that his old captain should be his model for the future.

"Now for work," said Mr. Blunt, when all the good things had disappeared. "We will hoist the sail first of all, and then push the vessel off the mud. There is a fine fresh breeze blowing upstream, and that should help us along wonderfully."

"What will happen when we get opposite the port again?" asked Dudley. "We have no anchor, and if we drop our sail we shall soon drift downstream again."

"There is a simple way out of the difficulty," was the prompt answer. "I will run her ashore on a soft spot as near the port as possible. Then I will go to the port authorities, make my complaints, and hire a boat and a couple of men to take us down to our own vessel."

They laid hold of the tackle at once, and by dint of much hauling finally got their sail up. Then the wind helped them more than they had expected, for, filling the sail at once, it drove them off the mud out into the middle of the stream. A little movement of the tiller brought the bow into the right direction, and very soon they were bowling along towards their destination. Indeed, in an hour they were opposite the port, which consisted of an official residence and office, a few private houses, and the odious saloons. There was a patch of soft mud just above the wharf, and Mr. Blunt calmly ran the vessel ashore there, dropping the sail when she was securely embedded. An hour later he and his young friends were aboard their own boat.

"As I thought," he said. "My complaints of those rascals were listened to politely. The official was all sympathy, but when it came to a question of action he merely shrugged his shoulders and pointed out that he had no one to help him. But he promised to send a report down to Buenos Ayres, while I myself will set private agents to work to make inquiries for me. However, our friend the official has promised to procure men to help in the loading, so that we may be off to-night."

Indeed, that same evening saw them sailing up the river, their old crew having come aboard.

"Of course they expressed the utmost surprise and indignation," said Mr. Blunt to Dudley, as the captain and his men filed aboard. "What can one say? I suspect them strongly. In fact I am positive that they kept out of the way purposely. However, they are necessary to us, and the failure of their friends will make them careful of their behavior in the future."

On the following day the vessel put in at the port at which Mr. Blunt's cattle were shipped, and they found Pepito waiting for them there, while half a dozen of the gauchos had ridden in to help with the logs, and to carry to the estancia the goods which had been bought in Buenos Ayres.

"Now, Harold, you will be able to pick a horse, and try what it is to sit a South American saddle," cried Dudley, as the party prepared to ride away. "See here, I will give you a lesson in mounting."

Pepito had brought Dudley's favorite horse to meet him, and striding up to the beast he sprang into the saddle with a bound which surprised the lad who was watching. The reins were gathered up in an instant, the feet seemed to find the stirrups by themselves, and in a moment he was off. But Dudley swung his animal round when fifty yards away, brought him back at a gallop, and was on his feet beside Mr. Blunt at the very moment when his horse came to a standstill.

"Just what I have been longing for ever since we left for Buenos Ayres," he laughed. "Life on shipboard may be very nice, but give me the open pampas and a horse."

"And me also," sang out Mr. Blunt, as he climbed into his saddle. "You will learn it all in a little while, Harold, and, like Dudley, will enjoy every minute of the day. For me the life is fascinating, and I'll be bound that you will find it the same. But come along. Let us be off."

Harold had had some practice with horses in England, and he mounted the beast he had chosen without so much as a qualm. But he soon found that an American saddle and a fresh, almost wild, horse were very different from pigskin and the hacks one usually obtains elsewhere. Still, he sat well, and managed his steed after a little practice. Indeed, he soon felt so much at home that he was able to take some note of his surroundings, and was delighted with the pampas. As to the camp they formed that night, the hearty meal, and his bed under the shelter of his saddle, the boy simply revelled in the experience, and woke as rosy and happy as possible. Within a week he had quite settled down to the new life, and ever by the side of our hero had ridden from end to end of the rancho. By then a good proportion of the logs which Mr. Blunt had ordered had been delivered at the wharf on the river, and had been divided.

"I have arranged for the work of fort building to go on at each of the corrals at one and the same time," said the owner of the estancia, as he and the lads sat in the one room of the house one evening after the day's ranching was done. "And I will give you my reasons for such a step. A plan that appeared some three weeks ago to be one demanding no haste is now one which undoubtedly demands instant execution. I shall not feel secure till all the forts are erected."

"Then have you had news of the roughs who attacked us?" demanded Dudley anxiously, for ever since the attack made upon them on the river he had been thinking of the consequences. He had now obtained some insight into the conditions of this portion of South America, and knew that the Entre Rios district was one which lay at the mercy of any well-organized gang of brigands who cared to take to the pampas. He had met a few of the neighboring ranchers, all of whom had at some time been victims of the Indian raids, or of sudden onset by white outlaws, and he knew now how real was the danger of which Mr. Blunt had warned him on the way out to the country. "You have heard something?" he asked. "What is the news, sir?"

"There is little, but what I have gathered is bad," was the prompt answer. "I set agents to work, and already I have had a report. The ringleader of the gang who attacked us on the way up the river--I mean, of course, the ruffian who organized them, but who took no active part, has not yet been discovered. But the authorities in Montevideo have had warning that a gang is being formed. They have had complaints about these marauders before, and as far as possible they endeavor to send warning to the ranchers. They tell me that it has come to their knowledge that the graziers in the Entre Rios district are to be attacked; but where the gang of rascals is now, when they will commence operations, and of how many they consist, the agents have no definite information. So we must be prepared, for the storm will burst when least expected, and those who have made no preparation will go under. For that reason I am setting all the hands I can procure to work at the forts, and I shall not rest till they are completed."

That he was ill at ease was evident, and from that date, for a month, building operations went on feverishly, and wooden forts were erected close to each one of the corrals. Not till they were finished did Mr. Blunt consider that he could spare Dudley.

"I have waited till now, as an attack might come at any moment," he said one day when each one of the forts was declared to be ready. "We have now finished the first portion of our plan. It remains now to train the men, to teach them the signals, and to accustom them to the use of the forts. After that is done we must communicate with the neighboring ranchers, and I will send you two youngsters to make all arrangements. You shall set out at the end of the week, and I will give you an escort, for you might be attacked. Select your own men, Dudley, and let me know who they are as soon as possible."

The two young fellows could not repress the smile of pleasure which wreathed their lips at the orders just received. It meant that they would ride away from the estancia, and that, added to the joy of camping in the open, there might even be some adventure, for the times were likely to be stirring. They selected their escort, took a spare horse apiece, and one fine morning rode from the estancia, armed to the teeth, and prepared for any trouble which might happen to come their way.