CHAPTER III

THE HOME ON THE PAMPAS

Shouts of excitement, the shrill falsetto of one of the lady passengers shrieking in her fright, and loud cries of encouragement accompanied Dudley as he sprang into the sea, and were cut off abruptly as the water closed over his head. A burly sailor, barefooted and with dripping hands, leaped on to the rail, and clambered out on to the stern of the dangling boat, from which point of vantage he stared down at Mr. Blunt as he struggled with the shark, and deep and bitter words escaped his bearded lips in his excitement. Then a stout little passenger, with florid countenance and remarkably bald head, followed him on to the rail, and for an instant appeared as if he would leap after the young fellow. The intention was there, the fire of youth was in his eye, and no doubt this stout little man had, in his young days, been capable of a rescue. But he was too stout now, and he knew it. He paused, held back, and then shouted like a maniac. Behind him the other passengers crowded, till a voice ordered them to stand aside.

"Stand away, gentlemen, please" came from the captain in stern tones. "Allow this man to pass. Now, lads, sling him over, and, Tom, make good use of that boat-hook."

Quick as lightning a sailor thrust his way through the throng, clambered over the rail, and let himself go, four of his comrades lowering him hurriedly by means of a stout rope till he was close to the water and within reach of the struggle. Meanwhile Dudley had struck out, had reached the surface, and had looked round for Mr. Blunt and the shark. Hardly half a minute had passed since he leaped from the rail, but in that short space of time he had decided on his course of action, though when he plunged into the water he had no idea what course to pursue. Then, like a flash, he remembered reading in some book about sharks, and of how natives in some odd corner of the world were in the habit of attacking them.

"A shark is helpless if you can tear his tail," he said to himself. "I recollect the natives did it with their teeth. I'll try."

Treading water for an instant, he saw the long, ugly snout of the monster close to Mr. Blunt's shoulder, he noticed the crimson streaks which now dyed the sea, and also how the dangling boat swayed as the man clung desperately to it. Then he drew in a big breath, dived beneath the surface, and struck out for the tail of the giant fish, easily seen at that distance. It was still for the moment, the monster simply retaining its hold and clinging to Mr. Blunt's arm. Dudley darted towards it, seized it between both hands, and pulled with all his strength, only to find that his hands slipped from the surface, and to receive a blow from the tail which beat him off promptly. But he was returning to the attack within an instant, and knowing that there was no time to be lost, he gripped at the tail again, dug his fingers into the slippery surface, and a second later had buried his teeth in the centre of the very extremity. Ah! This was different. He had a firm hold this time, and though the beast made frantic efforts to throw him off he clung to the tail, and with a sudden movement of both arms and of his teeth ripped it from end to end. Not till then did he let go his hold, to rise, gasping, to the surface a moment later.

What a shout greeted him! Hoarse roars of excitement, bravoes, and the hysterical shrieks of the lady passenger fell on his ears.

"Bravely done! A splendid act, and the only effective way to tackle him," shouted the captain, now standing on the rail and clinging to a halyard. "He has let go his hold! Strike at the brute, Tom. You have him within reach. Ah! That should settle the matter."

He leaned over, breathless with excitement, and watched as the sailor, dangling over the side, steadied himself against the ship with his bare toes, aimed at the floundering fish, and then struck with the boat-hook with all his strength, driving the iron end deep into the shark's body.

"Hold him, Tom," called out the captain. "Mr. Blunt, trail on to the bow of the boat for a moment longer. Another is being lowered from the port side, and will be round. You're all right?"

"Never stronger in my life," came the cool answer. "But that brute has mauled my shoulder rather badly. Who came after me?"

"Dudley Compton," shouted the stout passenger, now all aquiver with excitement. "The brave lad leaped straight in."

"I thought he would. I guessed he would be the one," came the calm reply. "Don't fret, Skipper. We're all snug down here for a while if there are no more of those brutes. Ha, Dudley, that you?"

He nodded coolly as the young fellow swam to his side and gripped the bows.

"Look before you leap," he laughed. "In other words, don't dive into a sea where sharks are expected."

The man was made of iron. Dudley watched him closely as they clung, waiting for the relief boat, and plainly saw the lines of pain drawn on his friend's face, the suffering which this strong settler from South America was too proud and too courageous to show. He was suffering, anyone could tell that from the red streaks which issued from the rents in his coat, and he was shaken, for his lips twitched suspiciously.

"You're hurt, sir. Shall I hold you and so take the weight from your other arm."

"Hold me! Not a bit of it, Dudley!" came the swift answer. "Hush! I'm hurt I know, but a man recovers sooner if he shows pluck about a thing of this sort. Lad, if I had a hand to grip yours!"

There was a depth of feeling now in the voice, feeling which he would not show before. Mr. Blunt looked at his young deliverer with eyes which displayed his gratitude plainly. Then his features hardened, and Dudley saw the lines of pain again. At that moment the boat, which had been hastily lowered, came round the stern of the vessel, and the five who were in the water were lifted into her and conveyed to the gangway, which had now been dropped from the rail. They were greeted with shouts of delight, and Mr. Blunt was hurried off a second later by the captain to have his wounds attended to. For no surgeon was carried, and almost every skipper of ocean-going vessels in those days had picked up a smattering of surgical and medical knowledge from the seaman's hospital at Greenwich or in other ports. As for Dudley, he was seized upon by the passengers, hoisted to the shoulders of the stout and enthusiastic little man who had seemed on the point of following him into the water, and with the help of two others he was conveyed down to the saloon.

"There is no fear of his getting a chill out in these waters," cried the little man, blowing with his exertions. "Gentlemen----Pardon, ladies and gentlemen, for I see that there are two ladies with us, we cannot let Mr. Compton go to his cabin without a word of commendation for his pluck. He is just fresh from the most gallant rescue that I have ever witnessed, and there is no time therefore like the present. I speak for all here, my dear lad, for the passengers and crew of this vessel. We are proud to have you amongst us, and we thank you for letting us see what a young Englishman can do. It was fine, sir! Grand! I wish the lad were my son."

He beamed on Dudley, shook his wet hand till our hero winced, and then pushed him into the midst of the other passengers. It was, in consequence, a very bewildered young fellow who escaped from their friendly and enthusiastic attentions at length, and made his way into his cabin. Nor did congratulations cease for many an hour, for on that very afternoon a select committee of passengers went ashore and returned in the evening with a bulky package. That night, after supper had been served, for that was the custom in the days of which we write, the captain rose from his seat at the table.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said quietly, "it has fallen to my lot to perform a pleasant duty for one and all of us. This morning a member of this ship's company, who, if he will excuse my saying so, is little more than a boy, behaved like a man, a very gallant man, let me add. He showed us in one fearful moment how self can be forgotten in the hope of helping others. That he may never forget this noble act, that we may show him what we think of his courage, we ask him to accept this memento. He needs nothing to stimulate his courage, but at times these useful little implements may remind him that he has behaved like a man, and can look the bravest in the face without flinching."

Short and crisp, and happily turned, the speech drew loud cheers from the assembled passengers, from the stewards, and from the sailors crowding in the doorway, while from Dudley there came a gasp of surprise, and two tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. The lad had met with very little kindness during his young life; his had been a somewhat lonely existence, and such notice was strange to him. He walked with unsteady feet to the captain, and looked at the memento with eyes which were blurred. In a splendid leather case, housed in suitable compartments, were a double-barrelled shot-gun, a rifle of fine workmanship, and a revolver of the latest pattern. No wonder his heart swelled with gratitude. He turned to express his thanks, strove manfully to steady his lips, and, failing hopelessly, stared round at the assembled people. A second later his friend came to the rescue. Mr. Blunt sprang to his feet, cool as ever, his face just a little paler perhaps, and his arm in a sling.

"Permit me, captain, and you, ladies and gentlemen, to answer for my young friend and deliverer," he said. "No one here should appreciate the truth of the words which our captain has used more than I, and all must know how deeply grateful I am. Mr. Compton saved my life. He rescued me from a horrible death, and in doing so performed a gallant act. You have presented him with a handsome memento, which I know he will always treasure, and for which he is deeply grateful. I know that he would tell you that he has done nothing, that Mr. Carter there was about to attempt the same thing; but we know--in his own heart he knows--that he has done well. Yet this memento seems in his eyes too fine a thing. He does not realize that you who looked on cannot recognize such gallantry too handsomely, nor that I, if I were to present him with a memento of a thousand times its value should still be his debtor for life. Ladies and gentlemen, our young friend has started his new life well; he has won your unstinted praise, and to the end of his life he will remember this day. He thanks you for your overwhelming kindness."

There were more cheers at that, while the stout little man who had been so unexpectedly referred to flushed to the top of his bald head and shook his fist at Mr. Blunt. Dudley, still covered with confusion, took up his guncase and rushed to the privacy of his cabin, where he threw himself on his bunk and buried his face in his hands. He was shaken. He felt more confused and unnerved by far than he had done immediately after the rescue.

"If only they would forget all about it," he groaned. "If only Mr. Carter had been first, then there would have been no need for me."

"While I should not have lived to thank you," said a voice at his elbow. "Come, Dudley, let us look at the guns. My word, you are well set up for the new life! You will have to hide this case, or the gauchos will think you are a desperate fellow and will leave you very severely alone. And, by the way, I have something to say to you. You hoped to meet a Mr. Bradshaw?"

Dudley shot up suddenly, ashamed of the emotion he had shown.

"Yes, sir," he said. "I was to disembark at Montevideo, and you told me that you would help me when I landed. I suppose I shall have little difficulty?"

"None whatever," was the calm answer. "That is, you will have no great trouble before you in finding work, for that, I suppose, is what you want."

"I will do anything," replied our hero eagerly. "I have fifty pounds in my valise, which will keep me going for some time. I hope to obtain employment with my guardian's friend. He promised to keep a place for me."

"And would keep that promise were he able to. But listen, my lad. I have kept the news from you till this. Mr. Bradshaw was killed six months ago in one of the frequent Indian raids. His estancia was sold up at once, and his successor might not want hands. But I do. Will you come? I offer you a fair wage, plain living in my house, and plenty of exercise."

Would he come? Would Dudley accept a post than which he could wish for nothing better?

Our hero leaped to the floor of the cabin and stared at his friend, too much surprised at the news he had just learned to make a reply. It was a blow to him to hear that this Mr. Bradshaw was dead, and that the friend to whom he was going would not be there to greet and help him. But that disappointment was wiped away in an instant by the handsome offer made him.

"I am truly sorry about Mr. Bradshaw," he said at last, "and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your offer. Of course I accept it. I would come for nothing, for I expect I shall be useless at first, and as you offer me a home, I shall be able to look round and get to know the country. There is no one with whom I would go so gladly as with you."

"Then the matter is settled. You are my employé from this moment," was the swift answer. "Your salary will commence from to-day also, as I shall wish to commence your instruction immediately. No, not a word of protest, if you please! You are too apt to make little of yourself. You say that you will be useless till you know the work required on a rancho. That is not so. Any young fellow who is willing, and does not fight shy when work is in prospect, can make himself of use. A day or two will teach him sufficient, and after that he is becoming more efficient every hour. But I want to tell you something more. This post that you have accepted is no sinecure. You will be about at the first streak of day and galloping over the rancho. Often enough you will be sent off on expeditions to round up cattle and horses, and on those occasions you will not even have a tent. You will sleep with the stars twinkling overhead, and wake with the dew lying heavily on you. Maybe, on rare occasions, a frost will come, and then your blanket covering will be stiff with cold."

Dudley laughed a gay laugh, which showed that none of these hardships had any terrors for him.

"It will be a grand experience, sir," he smiled. "Besides, have you not lived that sort of life for years? And look how fit and well you are."

"It has made a man of me, lad. When I am away from the house on the rancho I feel free as the air. I eat and sleep heartily, and fine weather, sunshine, frost, or rain are one and the same to me. Give me the gauchos' camp on the plains, or amidst the small forests, the crackling fire of thistle tops, a saddle to rest my head on, and a thick blanket to cover me. I am happy then. I enjoy every minute of the day, and sleep soundly at night. But there is something else. Lad, there are Indians. I have been raided twice already, and on each occasion I have escaped only by the skin of my teeth. Fifteen of my gauchos were killed on the last occasion, and all my stock was cleared out."

"And still you are going back to the place, and sighing to get there, sir," came Dudley's answer, short and abrupt. "If you can face an Indian raid, why, I shall try to do so also."

"Then our compact is settled. Not that I thought that you would flinch; but there are some who would. Now for a few words as to myself. You have told me who you are. I will let you have a little of my own history. You hear me use strange expressions sometimes. They are Italian, and though I am an Englishman born and bred, yet I have Italian sympathies and interests. My father lived many years in Rome, and often had a villa in Sicily, to which I used to go for my holidays. I speak Italian like a native, and know the southern portions of Italy and the whole of Sicily very well. I married an Italian lady, and settled in the island I have mentioned, till one of the foulest acts of treachery drove me from it and sent me out here. You have heard of the vendetta?"

Dudley had heard of it in some obscure way, and had a faint idea of its meaning, but he was not quite sure.

"I fancy it is sometimes a secret society," he said. "Or perhaps it is an oath which certain families take, that they will be revenged on some individual or even on a whole family. They plot and plan for years, if need be, till their revenge is accomplished."

"Just so; the latter is more correct. It is a hateful practice, and is one which might be expected in a country such as Italy, where secret societies abound, where men are condemned before secret tribunals, and assassinated by the poniard of a ruffian who, beyond his interest in this society, has no direct animus against the condemned man. Dudley, my wife's family had fallen under the ban of some secret society the members of which are, to the best of my belief, all of one family. These wretches murdered her father, and would have done the same by the mother had not a kind providence removed her peacefully before their poniards could reach her heart. That did not satisfy them. They slew my dear wife, and would have assassinated me and my little daughter had I not escaped from the country. They drove me out, and I sailed for South America, where there are many Italians, a number of whom, however, have now returned to their native country with Garibaldi. But that does not concern us now. My daughter, a child of your age, is settled in a convent near Naples, where she is secure, and where she has been for the past six years, passing under an assumed name. For myself, one of these days I may be able to return to Italy, where I should like to live, for the warmth suits me, and I feel at home. Also I have an estate in Sicily. There, I have bored you, I fear."

Dudley shook his head emphatically, for, on the contrary, he had been vastly interested. Many a time during the voyage he had wondered what there was about his friend which made him so different from other men. He was sure that he had a history, and now he had learned it.

"It seems terrible that such things should occur," he said aloud. "In England we have nothing like it, for the people would not allow such revenge and such assassinations. You have found security in this country, sir?"

"Would that I had," came the answer. "I thought that by coming here I should escape these miscreants, but that is not the case. It is true that I have been far more secure, for the simple reason that out on the ranchos there are so few men that a stranger is at once noticeable. We want to know at once who the man is, where he comes from, and what he wants. I have faithful gauchos there who would protect me, and who may be relied on to give me instant warning of danger. And yet I know that one Indian raid at least was instigated by my enemies, and I was once attacked in the streets of Montevideo. There is, indeed, no doubt that the ruffians who slew my wife would willingly kill me and my child. However, they have a big, strong man to deal with, and if I catch them in the act of attacking, why----"

The big, strong fingers of his uninjured hand formed themselves into a sturdy fist. The man's stern, sun-tanned face hardened, and there came over his features a look which told better than any words that Mr. Blunt would deal promptly and with the utmost severity with his enemies.

"Yes," he went on, "they shall have little leniency from me, for nothing but the severest measures and a stern example will stop their practices. However, do not let me trouble you any longer. I have told you that many political exiles from Italy have come to South America and have settled near Montevideo, and, knowing that, you can realize that one or more can send news of me to these people in Italy. There are paid spies amongst them, and if I were to take up my quarters for long in one of the towns, such as Montevideo or Buenos Ayres, why, I should be inviting trouble. There are ruffians to be employed in every city. Now, let us take a stroll on deck. The city of Rio looks magnificent when seen from the sea."

They clambered up the companion and strolled arm in arm from bow to stern, their eyes tracing the city by the numerous lights which twinkled from streets and windows. Late that night they turned in, Mr. Blunt to fall asleep at once, in spite of his wounded shoulder, and Dudley to lie awake and think, and dream of the life before him, of camp fires, of a bed beneath the stars, and of a life of freedom and hardship out in the open.

"Just what I should like," he said over and over again to himself. "I shall do my best to become expert with a horse and to keep up my shooting, while I shall try to learn the business of managing a rancho. Perhaps some of these days I might become manager for Mr. Blunt, or even his partner. At any rate I mean to get on and make a living."

He fell into an uneasy slumber at last, and gradually his still active brain turned from the pampas, from what he imagined a rancho to be, to Italy, to the terrible vendetta which had cast such a cloud over his friend's life. Little did he imagine, or even dream, that in days soon to come he, Dudley Compton, would become involved in that vendetta himself, and stand in fear of his life.

Early on the following morning the anchor was roused, the sails hoisted, and the ship set on a course for Montevideo. A week later they came to a rest off the town.

"We get off here and transship to a river boat," said Mr. Blunt. "I have friends ashore, and we will stay with them for a couple of days, while I lay in a stock of stores for the rancho. At the same time we will get you a suitable outfit. In those clothes you are at once conspicuous, while, if dressed in gaucho costume, no one will know you from a native of the place, for you are as brown as any white man could be."

Having shaken hands with the officers and the passengers who still remained aboard, Dudley clutched his guncase in his hand and went over the side into the small boat awaiting them. They were rowed to the quay, and soon were at the house of Mr. Blunt's friends. Two days later they embarked on a small river boat, a mass of stores being placed aboard under Dudley's supervision.

"Check every article carefully," said Mr. Blunt, "for though people are for the most part honest, it is as well to remember that a ruffian is to be found here and there. How do you like your new outfit, lad? You look well in it."

Dudley colored, for he had donned the garments for the first time that morning. He wore a shirt of dark-blue flannel, open at the neck save where the folds of an ample red scarf surrounded the collar. A wide sombrero of black felt covered his head, an ostrich feather standing up from the ribbon. His nether garments consisted of a pair of trousers of light material; and over these he wore a pair of split buckskin leggings, reaching to his waist, fringed with leather tassels on either side, and the whole held in position by a strong leather belt which encircled his waist, and in which a hunting knife was thrust. On his right hip, with the butt protruding from the top of the pocket stitched to the leggings, was his revolver, so placed that it was always ready to his hand, and yet was out of the way on ordinary occasions, and clear of the saddle when riding. A pair of enormous spurs, with big rowels, completed his outfit, but he wisely refrained from wearing them.

"It takes a little time to get accustomed to such big bits of metal on one's heels," laughed Mr. Blunt. "A man looks very foolish if he happens to trip; and besides, a rowel can inflict a nasty wound on one's foot. Once we are off you can put them on, and practise walking with them, and when we reach our port you will feel more at home with them. I will see that you have a quiet horse, and can leave it to you to swing yourself into the saddle as if you had been at it all your life. Your poncho will always be strapped to the back of the saddle."

Some ten days later they arrived at the up-country port at which they were to disembark, Dudley being amazed at the size of the River Paraná. By then he was well accustomed to his new outfit, and was able to walk with ease and certainty in spite of his spurs. They went ashore, checked their goods, and handed them over to a party of gauchos who had come from the rancho to meet their employer.

"They will load them up on pack horses and come through after us," said Mr. Blunt. "Now, Dudley, this horse will suit you, and the stirrup leathers are, I should say, of a suitable length. Remember to keep your toes in, and your spurs clear of the flanks, or he will soon tell you that you are a novice. Pick up your reins, take a grip of his mane with the fingers of the same hand, and then tuck your toe into the stirrup. A little effort will carry you into the saddle, when you will easily get your other stirrup by a little manipulation. On no account place it on your toe with your hand."

The group of gauchos, dusky-faced and well-set-up fellows, who had come to meet Mr. Blunt, stood watching the two as they mounted. Their keen eyes had so far detected nothing about our hero save his youth, and perhaps the newness of his costume. They looked on critically as he went up to his horse, put his fingers beneath the girth to see that it was secure, and then patted the animal. Dudley was not going to be hurried, though he felt all those eyes on him. He picked up his reins, just as he had been taught to do at home, twisted a few locks of the long mane round his finger, and then put his toe in the stirrup. After that it was simple work to mount, and in less time than it takes to tell of it he was astride the saddle, and by good luck his other toe had found its stirrup.

"_Bueno_! He has ridden, but he is a gringo for all that," exclaimed one of the gauchos. "What is this tale of the master's?"

"The lad rescued him from a shark. Leaped into the water, and tore the brute's tail to shreds. He has pluck!"

"He will suit us, comrades," chimed in another. "I have asked the hands aboard, and they say that he has good manners, that he speaks politely to all, and that he is no duffer. There is a tale that he can shoot."

At that they pricked up their ears, for a gringo might ride fairly well, he might have ample pluck, but shoot!--no, that was an art learned only on the pampas.

"I will give my rifle to you, Pietro," growled one of their number, a rough-looking fellow. "Listen, I will give you my rifle if this gringo can hit the pith ball of a bolas placed on a fence thirty paces distant. That is, with the revolver. Anyone could do it with a rifle."

"And I will return the gift," came the answer. "I know nothing for sure, mark you, _amigo_, but the young señor is a good fellow, and he will try to win for me. _Bueno!_ We will set to work to pack the animals."

Mr. Blunt had been careful to tell a portion of Dudley's tale on landing, knowing that his gallant act would win him more friends amongst the rough gauchos than would the fact that he was a protégé of his.

"He has come with me as a friend and employé," he told the head man of the gauchos, "and saved my life from a shark. You will find the young señor an excellent fellow."

Little did Dudley know what had happened. But he could see out of the tail of his eye as he rode off that the men were not disposed to be unfriendly to him. He felt glad that he had been able to mount his horse with such ease and dexterity, and he promised himself that he would do all he could to become a perfect horseman.

That night they lay down by the camp fire and slept beneath the stars. On the following day, having ridden across miles of sweeping pampas, they came to a strip of forest country, beside which were some buildings.

"Our home for the future," sang out Mr. Blunt. "Welcome to the rancho!"