Roughriders of the Pampas: A Tale of Ranch Life in South America

CHAPTER XV

Chapter 154,447 wordsPublic domain

DUDLEY MAKES A DISCOVERY

"There is the list of owners we have to call upon," said Dudley, on the evening of the day on which they had ridden from the estancia. "You see, there are three Portuguese, whom Mr. Blunt describes as good fellows; two Englishmen, with whom he has always been on the best of terms; and one other individual of whose nationality he is uncertain. He is really our nearest neighbor, but somewhat cut off, owing to a belt of forest. We shall visit him last."

"The others are some distance away, I suppose?" was Harold's question. "That means that we shall be away some days. Then I act as cook. That's agreed?"

"So long as you give us something fit to eat," was the laughing rejoinder. "One of the gauchos shall help you, and you two will cook for the whole party. I'll tell off two more to gather wood or thistle tops, and one to fetch water. We will commence right away, and so let everyone know what is expected of him. Call the boys, Pepito."

The young gaucho, whom Dudley had selected to lead his escort, came with half a dozen men at his heels trotting up to our hero, and pulled his horse in with iron hands, which set the beast rearing and plunging.

"The señor called," he said, stroking his thin mustache with the fingers of one hand, and looking not a little proud of himself, for it was a feather in his cap to be selected as the leader of Dudley's escort.

"I called to inform you that we shall camp here where we stand, for there is open pampas all round, and a stream of water close at hand. Tell off a man to help the señor here to do our cooking, and two more to gather thistle tops or what wood there may be lying about. I shall want another to get water for the cooks, and the remainder will be broken up into guards. We will commence right away by being careful; then, if anyone does attempt to surprise us, we shall not be taken so easily."

"It is good advice, señor," came the answer. "I have nine gauchos with me, and will tell them off as you say. How many guards will the señor need? I suggest four. There are twelve of us here, including yourselves, and if the señors care to take their turn----"

"Care! Of course we shall share the work," sang out Dudley briskly. "We are not going to lie under our saddles and sleep all through the night when a watch has to be kept. It will do us good to take our turn. Divide the men into three lots of three, then, Pepito, placing the señor here with one batch, yourself with another, and myself with the last. We will watch for two hours, and then the guards will be changed."

He waved his hand to show that the interview was over, and then watched as Harold made his preparations for the evening meal. The young fellow set to work with a will, for camp cooking was an art which had attracted his attention since he came to the pampas. Up till then he could hardly have prepared a rasher of bacon had he been asked, but the days he had spent away on the estancia with Dudley, when raw provisions were carried in their haversacks, and had to be cooked before they could be eaten, had taught him not a little, and the lad was beginning to pride himself upon his ability. Selecting a hollow down by the stream which ran close beside the camp, he and the man told off to help him erected a fireplace with boulders taken from the bed of the stream, and, breaking open a cartridge, damped a portion of the powder, setting fire to the train of dry grains which led to it by means of a flint and steel, for matches in those days were very precious out there on the pampas. Driftwood from the bank of the stream had already been piled over the powder, and very soon there was a merry blaze. Cooking pots were now produced, and for an hour, while Dudley and Pepito were busily superintending the watering, feeding, and grooming of the horses, the two cooks went on with their work.

"Roast deer, grilled bones, bread and coffee," shouted Harold at length, appearing before Dudley in his shirt sleeves. "Dinner is ready and waiting."

"And so are we. Bring the boys, Pepito," sang out Dudley. "Let us get the meal over before it is dark. Then the men will have time for a smoke before turning in."

Out there on the pampas, when the first streak of light found the camps astir, and the rising of the sun often enough discovered the gauchos, already breakfasted, their horses watered and fed, and themselves mounted and away after the cattle, a man did not as a rule wish to sit up late after darkness had fallen. Candles, like matches, were scarce, and, besides, the strenuous life, and the fresh open air, always had their effect. The gauchos worked hard from cock-crow till nightfall, and then, having supped and smoked a pipe, they were content to fall asleep, as if they were children, and make the utmost of the hours of darkness. Scarcely an hour, therefore, after their meal was ended, the camp was wrapped in silence, eight long figures lying beneath blankets under the shelter of as many saddles, while on the four sides, spread out some two hundred yards from the camp, rode the comrades who were on guard. Gaunt and weird, too, did these latter look as the light of a small crescent of the moon fell upon their figures. Each man was wrapped in his poncho, which belled out all round him, falling sometimes even lower than his knees. Wide-brimmed hats were pulled well over the ears, and in every case a thin rod stuck up above the shoulder and head, standing out prominently against the light of the moon, and showing plainly that the gaucho carried arms. Sometimes the sturdy fellows would sit like statues, watching and listening, while their mounts, seeming to understand what was expected of them, would stand without so much as a move, waiting, like the patient and well-trained beasts they were, for the word of their masters. Perhaps a low whistle would sound across the camp, and at once the men on guard would lift their heads and would amble across to where the call had originated, only to retire again within a minute. For the whistle was a signal, and a prompt answer to it told the one who had given it that his comrades were awake and alert.

"The two hours is ended. The señor takes the guard."

The tall figure of Pepito bent over our hero, and with a start he was awake.

"Two hours gone!" he exclaimed, as he rubbed his eyes. "Why, I lay down only a minute ago! There is some mistake."

"There is none, señor. Two full hours have passed, and you have slept all the while. I know that, for I crossed close to you many times. The horses are sleeping peacefully, señor, and there is nothing to report. The moon falls in two hours more, so you will know when to rouse the other guard."

It was true. Dudley sprang to his feet, threw his poncho over his shoulder, and ran off with his saddle to where the horses were picketed. Two minutes later he and his three gauchos took up their guard, and patrolled round the camp. It was a new experience to our hero, and many a time that night did he see an enemy in some bush across the stream, which on quiet investigation proved to be a shadow. For he was like the young soldier taking sentry duty soon after joining the ranks, who finds this unaccustomed work at first somewhat trying. However, nothing startling occurred during the night, and when the sun flashed across the pampas on the following morning it found the camp broken up, and Dudley and his escort well on their way.

A week later the little cavalcade was returning to the estancia, having paid the last of their visits.

"On the whole we have been very successful," said Dudley, as he and Harold rode side by side. "We have interviewed all the ranchers our employer sent us to see, and they have agreed to bring their men at once should they receive a signal. At the same time we have arranged to keep one another informed of the movements of the natives and of any strange whites. By the way, I can't say I like that last fellow we went to see."

"Nor I," was the prompt answer. "He was a surly beggar, and I caught him many a time scowling at you, Dud. I thought, too, that his promises were not sincere. He seemed eager to hear all about this intended organization of the ranchers, and yet gave me the impression that he cared little what became of those owning estancias on either side of him."

"Of whom Mr. Blunt is one, Harold. Yes, I too thought the man queer. We will ask Pepito about him."

A call brought the gaucho cantering up at once, and in a minute he was ambling along beside our hero.

"I can tell you little about the owner of the last estancia we visited, señor," he said. "There is no love between his men and ours, and were it not for the belt of forest which divides us I think there would be trouble. As it is, our gauchos have met those from the estancia we speak of, down in the settlements, and knives have been drawn, and shots fired. It is even whispered, señor, that those who pose as gauchos are merely robbers. One of the men here can tell a tale which will open your ears."

"Then call him," was the prompt answer.

A short and very swarthy gaucho galloped up at Pepito's call, and sat his horse jauntily beside Dudley while Pepito interpreted what he had to say.

"This man says that once he met a gaucho down at the cattle station on the river, and heard more than he was intended to hear. The fellow had a pocketful of money, and spoke over freely in his cups. He said enough in any case to show our friend here that service on this estancia from which we are now riding was far more profitable than service elsewhere. He scoffed at the very name of ranching, and hinted that there was other work."

"Other work! What can that have been?" asked Dudley curiously, for to tell the truth the impression he had gained of the last estancia owner he had interviewed was not very good. The fellow had been curt and almost openly rude. He was a swarthy, truculent man, short of stature, broad, and with a decidedly unpleasant cast of countenance. As to his nationality, he was in all probability an Italian. He could speak English fairly well, and Harold, who watched him closely, could have sworn that the fellow had an antipathy to all that was English. In fact, after the interview was over, the two left the house with a feeling of doubt, vaguely wondering whether the individual who lived there would even lift a finger if his neighbors were attacked.

"Well, what was this work?" asked Dudley. "If the man scoffed at ranching, what else could there have been? Out here on the pampas there is little that one can do to earn a living except by looking after cattle."

Pepito turned to the dusky gaucho and questioned him closely. Then he swung round to his young leader and shrugged his shoulders.

"Our friend cannot say definitely, for even a gaucho in his cups has some caution. But this is certain. The forest belt which separates us runs far into the Indian country, and the man who owns this estancia has friends there. It seems that on occasion the Indians are invited to a feast, just to keep them in good temper, and our friend here believes that more than one Indian raid has been planned by this neighbor of ours."

The news came as a blow to Dudley, and for a while he sat his horse in moody silence, while Pepito and the other gaucho drew rein and retired at a wave of his hand.

"If the hint that we have just had has any truth in it we have trouble to face," he said at last. "If this fellow is a rascal, and makes friends with the Indians, he is now possessed of all the information he wants. He has heard of our forts, and of the agreement between the ranchers, and in that case he will be fully prepared. I think----"

He broke off suddenly, and pulled in his horse with a jerk.

"You think? Yes?" demanded Harold eagerly, for he too had gained an unfavorable impression of their last host.

"That it is my duty to look further into this matter. You see, these Indian raids are very dangerous, particularly for Mr. Blunt, for he lives right on the Indian frontier. Now if the fellow we have recently left is a rascal----"

"As Pepito's friend seems to believe."

"Exactly. If he is a rascal and harbors Indians it explains why these raids are so sudden and so successful as a rule. I noticed myself that in our last affair the men who invaded the estancia retired in this direction. I can see for what reason. They make for the nearest and most secure shelter. They retire on the forest, break up into small bands there, and each band drives off a lot of cattle, knowing well that they are secure, for they are on another estancia, and it is a rule amongst the owners not to bring their men on to a neighboring rancho."

"And for the shelter given to the Indians our late friend has some reward I suppose?" chimed in Harold, a note of satire in his voice.

"If he is a rascal, and if what I am surmising is correct, then he undoubtedly has something in return for what he does. There are scores of our beasts unbranded at certain seasons of the year, and it must be easy to pick out those animals, and leave the remainder to the Indians."

"While the man from whom the beasts are stolen can never claim them, seeing that they do not bear his brand. I see your meaning, Dudley," said Harold thoughtfully. "In the same way this fellow may harbor a crew of outlaws, and few would suspect that the raids came from his estancia."

"That was what I was thinking. I know that the sudden onset of these ruffians, and their equally sudden disappearance, have been puzzling questions for Mr. Blunt. True, he and his gauchos have never followed them more than a mile or two over the estancia borders. But still, when they have come to inquire, the neighboring gauchos and the owners of the estancia have seen nothing of the raiders, till their turn comes, perhaps weeks later. Everyone thinks that the rascals disappear into the Indian country, but what if they have their headquarters near at hand, and the very fact of their being on an estancia owned by a white man shelters them even from suspicion?"

The very thought was sufficient to make Dudley anxious, and for five minutes at least he sat his horse like a statue. Harold looked expectantly into his face, as if about to ask him a question, while just in rear, obedient to every action of their leader, the gauchos sat silently, the fringes of their leggings blowing in the wind, and their steel bits jingling musically. Something was in the air they knew, for why had their leader called two of his following to his side? Something told them that the señor was disturbed in his mind, and, as if to give him every opportunity to get to the bottom of this trouble, they sat as silent as a band of ghosts, looking keenly into one another's eyes.

As for Dudley, he felt that he ought to take some action, and he was puzzled as to what it ought to be. During the past half-hour the many tales which Mr. Blunt had told him had been passing across his mind with unusual vividness. He knew that his employer had been raided time and again, just as other owners had been. He remembered, too, that the roving bands of outlaws and rascals who at times infested the pampas had paid more than one visit, and had even burnt Mr. Blunt out of house and home. On each occasion they had disappeared as if by magic, to turn up again days later many miles away. What if those bands came from the neighboring estancia?

"I will do it," he said aloud. "I feel that it is my duty to set a watch on this fellow. We have still four days to ourselves, for Mr. Blunt told me he did not expect us to return till a fortnight had gone. We will make the most of those spare days. We will turn and ride back."

With a swing he brought his horse's head round in the opposite direction, and was in the act of cantering away past the gauchos, when Pepito arrested his attention.

"The master returns?" he asked, with a lift of his chin. "The señor suspects this owner whom we have left, and means to watch him?"

"That is my intention," was the short answer. "About turn!"

"One moment, señor! Perhaps the gauchos of this man we have seen suspect that you do not like them. Perhaps they have been instructed to watch you till you are on our own estancia. Look at the forest. A hundred men might be there, and would see us at once if we turned. It would be better and wiser perhaps if the señor made his camp close to here, and then to-night we could mount and ride back till we were in the forest."

The handsome fellow lifted his hat deprecatingly, as if to apologize for so boldly venturing his advice. But Dudley was not the one to feel injured, particularly when he remembered that Pepito had been brought up on the pampas, and knew every trick.

"Excellent, Pepito!" he cried. "Just ride round as if you were hunting for a likely spot, and then we will camp. Get the fire going, picket the horses, and when darkness comes send out the guards. If anyone has crept up close by, then they will see us settled for the night. We will wait three hours before setting off."

The gaucho gave a vigorous nod of his head, and in a moment was cantering away, his eyes searching diligently for a favorable camping site. Not that there was much difference in the surroundings, for the pampas spread on every hand, sweeping away in long and slightly rolling knolls covered with waving grass right to the horizon, save in the direction from which the party had just come. There a dense line of dark forest cut across the low skyline, the forest behind which lay the estancia of the individual whom they had so recently visited. Dudley stood in his stirrups for some minutes, watching the long green band, wondering whether there was ground for his suspicions, whether the man who lived at the neighboring estancia were honest, and merely possessed of an unfortunate and surly manner; or whether he were indeed a rogue, who harbored rascals, and organized the constant raids from which the ranchers suffered.

"Honest or not, I feel it my duty to look into the matter," he said aloud. "If he is a respectable person, then no harm will have been done, for I shall take pains to keep out of sight of him and of his men. If he is a rascal, why, then, perhaps I shall be able to open the eyes of Mr. Blunt. He would be surprised to hear that the attacks which he imagines are organized in Montevideo are really the work of a neighbor. And if that is actually the case, then I fancy that within a little while we shall be able to put a stop to any repetition of the trouble, and perhaps even may see the end of this vendetta which has dogged his footsteps for so many years, and which has so constantly threatened his life."

"Then you return and pay a second visit?"

It was Harold who asked the question, with a strange glint in his eyes, and so suddenly that Dudley started. "I believe that you are on the right track, and that the gentleman behind those trees is a rascal. Dud, it would be fine to do something for our employer. He has been good and kind to you, and to me he has been even more. I'd do a lot to pay him back in some manner."

"Then you shall have the opportunity," answered Dudley promptly. "If we are right, this little business will be dangerous, for if they are rascals over there they will shoot us on sight. We must chance that, and I swear that we will not return till we have cleared up the matter. Ah! Pepito has found a camping ground for us, so we will dismount."

They slipped out of their saddles and led their horses to the pool which lay within a hundred yards of the spot. Then the usual routine of the camp was carried out. The horses were picketed, fed, and groomed. Saddles were placed in a row close to the fire, while Harold rolled his sleeves to the elbow, produced his pots and pans, and commenced to prepare the evening meal. And all the while one of the gauchos slowly walked his horse in a wide circle round the camp, as was the usual custom, his eyes constantly roving the pampas, for the camp lay on the border of the Indian country. On this occasion the gaucho cast many a glance towards the forest, as if he, too, were suspicious of the men living beyond that dark barrier. Once even, as if he had seen something suspicious, the active fellow clambered to his feet, and stood to his full height on the saddle, one hand over his eyes to shade them from the light. But evidently he was satisfied at length, for he slid down again and rode away to the opposite side of the camp.

"It was nothing, señor," he said when Dudley walked out to question him. "I thought I saw a horseman come from the trees, and so clambered to my feet. But there was no one there. I must have caught sight of a shadow. The señor may feel sure that there is none on the edge of the forest, for had he been there I should certainly have seen him."

Within an hour they sat down to their evening meal, and, soon afterwards, darkness having fallen, they lay down. On the outskirts of the camp four silent figures rode to and fro for all the world as if the camp were settled for the night, and as if the little party had no intention of moving till the sun had risen once again above the waving pampas. But the stillness of the place lasted for one short hour only. Then Pepito rose, called gently to the men, and led the way to the horses. In three minutes all were mounted and ready, while Dudley and Harold conversed in low tones with the young gaucho who led the men.

"We shall divide now into two parties," said Dudley. "Pepito will take half the men and ride to the left. We shall take the other half and make to the right. An hour before dawn we shall return to this spot, and, once we are all here, we shall ride away to our own estancia. That is clear, I think?"

"As daylight," whispered Harold.

"The señor's words leave no room for doubt. We divide now?"

"At once," answered Dudley.

They joined the men immediately, divided them in silence into two groups, and in a moment they had separated, each party sweeping away from the other and riding in a direction which would take them to that dark line of forest which separated Mr. Blunt's holding from the neighboring estancia.

What if Dudley and his friends had known that while they lay in their camp that evening a band of silent men, led by a short and repulsive-looking individual, had ridden from the tumble-down house located on the estancia beyond the forest, and had slowly and cautiously entered the trees? And that is what had actually happened. For no sooner had our hero and his little party ridden away out of sight, than the owner of this neighboring rancho had sent two of his ruffians to follow and watch, and in the evening he came, together with several others, to join them in the forest where they had halted. It was one of these horsemen whom Dudley's scout had seen. It was no fancy on his part, and no mere shadow had deceived his keen eyes. For men were there, a band of ruffians armed to the teeth, and waiting only for the word of their leader to ride down upon the peaceful camp outside on the pampas and murder every one sleeping there.

"We will surround them, so that none can escape," growled the surly leader. "Then, knowing the plans of this Mr. Blunt, we will post men to cut off any gaucho who may be sent with a message to the other ranchers, and as the dawn breaks we will attack our neighbors. At last, my friend, I shall be even with you. You escaped my men on the river, just as you slipped out of my fingers on two former occasions. This time fortune is favoring me, and when the dawn comes I shall have paid my debt. There will be no longer a reason for the vendetta."

The man clenched his fists and swore in Italian, under his breath. Then, calling gently to his men, he rode from the trees, and very soon was spurring down upon the spot so lately occupied by Dudley and his party.