CHAPTER VI

OUT ON THE RANCHO

Giono was thoroughly beaten on his own ground, and cringed as Mr. Blunt still directed his revolver at him. The gaucho was by no means wanting in courage, for he had inherited that as a gift natural to all these wild men of the pampas. But he could not face that muzzle, nor the smiles and nudges of his comrades. He dropped his own weapon with an oath, scowled at Dudley, and turned from the group. They saw him swing away towards the back of the house, and presently he appeared again mounted on a beautiful animal, which he reined back with iron fingers till he was out of range of the pistol. Then he gave his temper full license.

"Listen, you, my late employer," he roared, shaking a quivering fist at Mr. Blunt. "Listen, you, I say. You shall regret your action. I will make you call the day an evil one when you brought that English cub with you, and I give you warning. Giono does not knuckle down to men such as you are. I will shoot you and the pup you have engaged when the first chance comes."

He shook his fist again, scowling at Mr. Blunt and Dudley, then he dug the huge rowels of his cruel spurs into the flanks of his beast, swung him round with a powerful wrench of the arm, and went off at a mad gallop, the heels of the poor animal kicking dust and earth far up behind it.

"I expected every word," said Mr. Blunt quietly. "I could have told beforehand what that gentleman was about to say. Threats do no damage, Dudley, but with a ruffian such as he is they put one on one's guard. My men, you will break into threes, take your arms, and follow that late comrade of yours till you have seen him off the rancho. After to-day the man who first catches sight of him on the place has my authority to shoot him instantly."

He waved his hand to the men and watched as they ran to the stable, and very soon they were streaming away in threes, each little party separating and galloping in the wake of Giono.

"He will not rest till he has put miles between himself and our friends," said Mr. Blunt when they were gone. "We shall see no more of him, I hope; but don't forget his warning, my lad. This is a rough country, we are out of reach of police and soldiers, and a ruffian has to be put down by those who are disposed to live a decent life. If you ever see him, do as I have commanded the men. Don't hesitate, for if you do you will have no second chance. He will see well to that.

"Now we will make a round of the rancho. It is some time since I saw the cattle, and it is always well for an owner to inspect the work of his men. Get Francia to put up some food for us, bring your gun and your rifle, and don't forget a blanket and a poncho."

They went to the house to make their preparations, and within a little while the two were cantering away, a saddle bag well filled with food slung to each saddle, a canvas sack overflowing with water to balance it on the far side, and behind the cantle a mound composed of a thick blanket and the inevitable poncho. Dudley had by now ridden all over the rancho, and had obtained some insight into the work the gauchos performed. He had also received the impression that Mr. Blunt must be a prosperous farmer or grazier, for none of the land was tilled, and numerous herds of cattle pointed to his wealth.

"There are some fifteen thousand beasts," was the answer to his enquiry on that point, "and for six weeks now the gauchos have been busy branding the calves. Of course we make no attempt to keep stray animals from making out of the rancho, for that would be a hopeless task. Certain men are always stationed on the borders, and if they see a herd on the point of leaving they turn them back. The single ones, and occasionally a score or more of beasts, wander at night, when they have been disturbed by some unusual noise, and they, of course, are lost. Perhaps they stray back again, or others come from the neighboring rancho. In any case such a loss is nothing. There is always a small exchange of beasts going on at the borders."

"But supposing branded animals stray?" asked Dudley. "What happens to them?"

"That depends on the neighbors who find them," was the answer. "Due west of us there is merely open pampas, with no living owner, and there I keep a very particular watch, for Indians hold the country. Elsewhere branded beasts which wander are driven back when it is convenient, while my gauchos do the same with neighbors' animals. In the end we are all satisfied, and of course the knowledge that beasts will stray makes us extra careful about the branding. I am making for the far western corner of the rancho, where there is a big herd surrounded by gauchos, and where branding is now going on as fast as possible. You will see something to open your eyes."

The sight which Dudley saw when late that evening they arrived on the western border of the rancho was indeed a novel and most interesting one. There were some fifty gauchos in all, widely separated, and broken up into twos. Of these groups of two, one man was always mounted, while at the hour at which they arrived the gaucho off duty for the time had strayed from his comrade to those nearest at hand, and had now squatted over a fire of thistle tops, smoking and eating.

"That is how the herd is watched," explained Mr. Blunt. "The men must have rest, for night and day the watch must be kept. So two of them take turn and turn about, and when one is off duty getting a rest and food, or a sleep, his horse is enjoying the same privileges. We will rest here, and I will show you how to bivouac for the night. Hop off your mount, and strip saddle and bridle from it. That's the way. Now take the rope attached to the halter, and hobble its fore legs as I have already shown you how to do."

Dudley slid from his saddle in a manner which showed that he was used to the work, and in a very few seconds had stripped the beast of all its gear save the head stall, the rope attached to which was used for hobbling. Then he gave the horse a vigorous smack on the flank, and sent it away to graze and rest till morning.

"Now put your saddle up on the cantle. So! That's the way. It will not fall over easily, and you will see that the pads which protect the horse's back from chafing are well exposed, and have every chance to dry, for in this climate they are nearly always moist after a ride. Now your poncho goes into the hollow between the pads and flaps, your head finds it a wonderfully comfortable pillow, while the blanket over all makes things snug and warm for the night."

To show him how it was done, Mr. Blunt placed his own saddle in position, and threw himself down on the ground, drawing his blanket about him, and placing his head on the poncho between the flaps of the saddle.

"Your saddle keeps the wind away on a breezy night," he explained, "and is close at hand in case you happen to want it. If it rains, as is not often the case, you hang the blanket over the cantle, and there you are, under a tent which will keep you fairly dry. Now, Dudley, skip along and gather some thistle tops. There is little wood in these parts, and so one has to find a substitute. Look at the men. I rather fancy Pietro and his comrades have been talking."

That, in fact, was the case, and as the two were seen cantering up towards the herd of cattle and their guards, quite a number of the men made their way forward to meet them. They nodded to their master, and looked on critically as our herb slipped from his saddle.

"As if he'd done it before," said one, a big fellow with long black hair and a melancholy way about him. "Fresh and young, comrades, and new to the pampas. You can see he does not mind being told how things are done. What was the story Pietro was telling?"

A comrade repeated it, and at once the gaucho strode up to the young Englishman as he was gathering thistle tops. When Dudley glanced up, there was the gaucho, still with the same melancholy air, his head hanging forward, and one huge brown palm stretched in front. He shook it, and, interpreting the signal, Dudley stepped up, gripped the strong fingers, and shook them with vigor.

"We're friends, I see," he said quietly, for he seemed to feel at once that the big gaucho wished to be pleasant. "It's kind of you to come."

"I'm foreman out here, and I thought I'd like to show you that all are not like Giono. Señor, you are welcome! All my comrades are glad to see you. I bear a message from them. They ask you to repeat the shot you made this morning."

"I'll try," was the ready answer. "When it is light enough to-morrow, I'll do my best to please you."

They nodded to one another, and our hero returned to his employer with a bundle of thistle tops under his arm. In a few seconds the flames were shooting up, and in a little while the two were seated by them, each with a ramrod in his hand, and a fine steak of deer flesh on the far end. It was all so new to Dudley, and he found this open-air life most fascinating. He could see now why Mr. Blunt loved it, why he declared that he was free out on the pampas, and why a man could be a man when living such a life.

"Even the food we cook out here is sweeter to me," exclaimed Mr. Blunt, as they chatted after their meal. "I would not change the dinner we prepare for the daintiest repast to be had in London or in Paris. As to the sleeping accommodation, well, you yourself will appreciate the difference when once we get back to the house. Here one breathes pure air, the invigorating breath of the pampas. A house stifles me at first. I feel as if the ceiling were falling on to me."

Half an hour later they turned in, and Dudley found that his unaccustomed bed was more than comfortable. On Mr. Blunt's advice he kicked a hollow in the ground to accommodate his hips, and on stretching himself out, and pulling the blanket over him, he found that he had a couch at which the most fastidious could not have grumbled. On either side of his head were the flaps of his saddle, but up above there was nothing to shut him in, and for a while he stared up at the brilliant stars, while he listened to the strange sounds of the pampas. Now and again there was a low call from one watching gaucho to another, and then perhaps the deep lowing of cattle. Sometimes the earth trembled for a few seconds with the stamping of a hundred feet, and then all was silent, save for the chirrup of the crickets. He fell into a deep sleep, and only stirred when the sun shone in his eyes in the early morning. Mr. Blunt was already afoot, tending to the kettle steaming over the fire, while at various points, around the enormous herd of beasts, groups of gauchos, still swathed in their blankets, squatted over the fires and discussed their breakfasts. As for the cattle, they seemed to be in a restless mood, and kept their guards galloping to and fro, cracking their long whips and shouting. Indeed, less than ten minutes later, as Dudley and his friend were eating their meal, the noise from the herd became deafening. Every animal seemed to be bellowing, there was much movement in the far corner of the group, and then of a sudden the animals broke away. Men shouted, whips snapped like pistols, and in a trice, as if the word had been passed through the heaving ranks, some two thousand bullocks, heifers, and calves were charging down upon the two who crouched over the fire. The sight brought Mr. Blunt and Dudley to their feet promptly.

"They have broken away!" exclaimed the former quickly. "They do sometimes, and give a great deal of trouble, besides being a positive danger. Stay where you are, my lad. The horses are too far for us to reach them, and it is useless to run."

They stood watching the herd anxiously, hoping that the gauchos, all of whom had rushed to their horses, would be able to check the beasts. The men threw themselves on the flank of the herd with vigor, and sent their stinging lashes trailing over the beasts, while they shouted and shrieked so as to frighten them and get them to move in the opposite direction. But they might almost as well have hoped to move a mountain. The mass of beasts had taken a sudden and unaccountable fright, and bore down upon Dudley and Mr. Blunt with all their force and speed.

"Get your gun and load quickly," said Mr. Blunt. "And get the flap of your revolver pocket open. Those beasts must be stopped, or they will gallop over us and trample us to death. Don't attempt to run, Dudley. You would certainly be caught. Our only chance is to back up the efforts of the gauchos, and stand firm. Let the brutes have a couple of charges full in their faces when they get into range. That will give you time to load again and repeat the dose."

There was little time for talking, for already the maddened herd was almost within range of the shotgun. For a few seconds Dudley had contemplated flight, and made ready to follow his employer should he run. But seeing that he proposed to stand fast, he loaded his gun, opened the flap of his holster, and faced the herd. It was a terrifying spectacle, and it wanted no experience to tell him that if the beasts were not stopped they would stamp everything in their path flat with the ground. He felt his pulses throbbing wildly, while a bead of perspiration collected in the furrow on his forehead and trickled down his cheek. The time for action had arrived. He lifted his gun, aimed at the far right of the herd, and pressed the two triggers, one after the other, sending a hail of pellets into the faces of the animals. But he might have fired peas for all the effect the shots had. A few beasts on the far flank swerved away into the open, and came to a halt, as if wondering what all the commotion was about. But the remainder galloped madly on, as if they saw the two solitary figures standing before them and had made up their minds to annihilate them.

"Again!" said Mr. Blunt quietly. "Give them another charge, lad."

Crash! Bang! This time the range was much closer, and though the shot did not separate so much, they struck the animals on the right with far greater force. One, a massive beast, received a portion of one charge full in the face, and it may have happened that one of the pellets reached the brain by way of the eye. In any case the ponderous animal fell on his horns, crumpled up, and rolled over and over, while two near at hand rose for a moment into the air and bellowed with pain. A second later a score of the beasts had poured over the prostrate animal, had tripped, recovered their feet, and tripped again. Fifty almost were down, and their startled bellows seemed to scare the remainder of the herd. They swept in one dense mass to the left, three of the gauchos galloping for their lives in front of them, while those on the right flank came thundering over the pampas, kicking their heels within six feet of Dudley and his employer.

"Phew! That was the nearest shave I have ever had," exclaimed Mr. Blunt, lifting his hat and wiping the perspiration from his brow. "I thought it was all up with us, and was preparing to make a desperate leap on to the back of the nearest beast, for I have known one man to escape in that way. Then your lucky shot set the matter right. Lad, you did well again. How did you feel? Inclined to bolt?"

"Never in a bigger funk in all my life, sir," came the candid answer, and indeed Dudley was shaking with excitement. "I expected to be smashed into a jelly, and can't believe now that they have run past us. The life of a gaucho is not all honey after all. I suppose many are killed in this way?"

"Scores have been trampled to death, and many are gored by bulls, or have their backs broken by a bucking horse. Then they are very apt to quarrel, and the Spanish blood they have leads them to let their tempers loose and draw their knives. Yes, the gaucho seldom lives to an old age. I like him. He is honest, hearty, and a good worker, and he has pluck. But let us enquire as to damages. There will be little branding to-day, Dudley. It will be three hours before the herd is rounded up again."

They returned to their camp, still congratulating themselves on their fortunate escape. It took but a few minutes to fetch their horses, which had not been stampeded like many of the others, and in a little while they were off, cantering away across the pampas.

"We will go on into the Indian country," said Mr. Blunt. "There are often herds of wild horses there, and if we are lucky enough to spy one, we will bring a party out to round them up. We don't do a great deal of breeding on the rancho; Indian raids make that such a profitless game. We rely on the wild animals always roaming the pampas."

It was a glorious day, with a bright sun and a mild breeze. The scent of wild grasses was in the air, while one huge vista of pampas swept before the eye, with a few clumps of trees away in the distance, for Dudley was in the middle of one of those vast plains of South America famed to this day as grazing lands for cattle, and then the home of herds of wild beasts, including cattle, horses, and deer of many descriptions. In addition there were the Indians, an ever-present danger to the settler. It was not long before the two horsemen arrived at one of the collections of trees, and, skirting this, they mounted a rise in the land till they were near the top.

"Our look-out station," said Mr. Blunt, sliding from his saddle and leaving the beast to graze. "If I have sighted one herd of horses from here I have sighted a dozen. Creep to the top and look over. One does not require to be so careful nor so cunning as if one were dealing with Indians. They would spot a head instantly, and then----"

"We should have a crowd down upon us," burst in Dudley. "I'll practise going carefully, as if there were real danger."

He too slid to the ground, and soon the two were close to the top. They went on their faces, and, crouching close to the ground, slowly made their way to the extreme summit. Then, as if by common impulse, they ducked, looked at each other, and gave low whistles of surprise. Lucky it was for them, too, that they had had the caution to advance so warily, for otherwise they would have been in a precarious situation. They were out in search of horses, and as they topped the rise their eyes fell upon what they sought--a fine collection of some twenty beasts, with flowing manes, and with such freedom of action as they ran that Dudley was enchanted. But there was something else besides. Not thirty paces away sat four men who were half-naked. Their backs were turned to the top of the hill, and they were watching the horses attentively. The beasts were trotting towards them, but when Dudley looked again they had halted, and stood with heads in air, their ears pricked up, listening attentively, and now and again breaking into a startled trot. Mr. Blunt saw something more, for he took Dudley by the sleeve and pulled the fringe of his coat. Then he pointed, and, following the direction, the young Englishman beside him saw a number of specks in the distance. They were mounted men, slowly stealing up behind the horses.

"Come away. Slip back again and mount."

Mr. Blunt hardly whispered the words, and promptly crawled away, worming his long, lanky figure towards his horse. Dudley followed suit, rose to his feet, and vaulted into the saddle.

"Walk!" whispered his employer. "Hush! Not a sound."

They took their horses at a slow pace for some three hundred yards, casting a glance behind them every few seconds. Then Mr. Blunt turned to Dudley.

"Are you ready for a fast ride?" he asked shortly.

Our hero shook his reins. "Certainly, sir!" he said. "Where to?"

"Back to the gauchos. Gallop all you can, and bring them back. I don't want to attack the Indians, but I want to let them see that I have plenty of men. And more than that, they stole some two hundred horses from me eight months ago. I must have that herd down below, and so retaliate. It does not do to let the Indian have it all his own way. Off you go!"

"Alone, sir?"

"Yes, alone."

"And you, sir?"

"Alone, I said," came the curt answer.

Dudley swung his animal round, touched him ever so gently with the rowel of his spur, and went off at a gallop. He would have liked to ask what his employer was going to do, and felt anxious about him and disinclined to leave him alone. But Mr. Blunt said what he meant. He was a man of few words, as a rule, and those few were very much to the point. Dudley had to be contented with that, and with an occasional glance behind him till the solitary figure was lost to sight.

"Wanted to argue!" exclaimed Mr. Blunt, when he had gone, a little smile on his lips. "That chap's a sticker. There are many men whom I have met who would have bolted from those cattle, and would have been rolled and stamped till they were as flat as sheets. It's trying work to stand and see a whole mass of heads and feet charging down, and if he had bolted I could have forgiven him. That chap's a sticker, I say, and he's come out here with the same idea as youngsters of his age and of our race have, wherever they be. They know it's right to stick to a friend, whatever the danger. That's why he doesn't fancy leaving me behind. As if I were a chicken!"

He smiled grimly as he swung his long rifle round to the front, opened the breech, and popped in a cartridge. This man knew that the time for shooting had not yet arrived, and he was not going to be hurried. He sat like a sentinel, the butt of his weapon at his hip, and neither man nor horse moved. And there Dudley and the thirty gauchos he brought back with him found their employer.

"Good!" said Mr. Blunt. "That number will scare the Indians. Now, boys," he went on, "I don't want to make bad blood, which means that I don't want to kill any of these fellows. All we want is to scare them, and to drive them off. They must have the horses rounded up by now, and we will take them over. The lesson will be a useful one. Perhaps if we are successful, they will leave us alone for a time."

At a signal from him a group of the gauchos held in their horses, while the remainder filed off in two lines, passing to left and to right of the wood. Then, having allowed them to gain some distance, Mr. Blunt walked his horse up to the ridge and clambered to the top. Ten minutes later there was a shout as one of the Indians below saw the group of gauchos, a shout which was taken up in all directions. For the Indians, some forty in number, had now come quite close to the hillock, and had drawn in the circle which they had thrown about the herd of horses. Indeed, in a little while they would have been at work with their bolas, or would have been driving the animals back to their own country. To be disturbed at such a moment must have been galling in the extreme. Cries and shouts of rage proceeded from each man, and as Dudley came to the top of the ridge, and was fully exposed, a shot rang out some fifty feet away. The bullet shaved the tip of his chin, drawing a thin line of blood, punched a neat little piece out of his left ear, and one of larger size out of the brim of his hat. Then, having done its worst, it flew on into space, buzzing and screeching as it went, for it was of native manufacture, all angled and rough.

"You might have been shaving," laughed Mr. Blunt as Dudley felt his chin with the tips of his fingers, and then touched his ear. "A miss is as good as a mile, my lad, and a shot like that will make you as steady under fire on future occasions as the oldest soldier. Hurt?"

"Not a bit, sir," came the ready answer. "My word, that fellow must have spotted me as I came over the top!"

"You may be sure of that. He could have fired at one of the gauchos. An Indian likes better to kill a white man. But look at them running. They have seen the other parties."

The approach had been well timed, in fact, for hardly had the party appeared on the crest when the others rode from either side of the wood. The Indians looked at first as if they would resist the approach of the strangers, but, seeing their numbers, and having a huge dislike to warfare in the open, they put spurs to their animals, and, even as Dudley wiped the blood from his ear and chin, they went galloping for their lives across the pampas. Mr. Blunt at once waved his hat over his head, and instantly the two parties below set their horses at a fast gallop, and before the herd of frightened animals below could disperse they had surrounded them.

"Better than I had hoped for," exclaimed Mr. Blunt. "We will drive the beasts back to the corral, and then you shall see some fun. It looks cruel, and in fact it is cruel, to break in these wild animals; but we must have horses. To-morrow we shall turn out the stallions and mares, and select the best of the young horses."

An hour later the whole party was returning, the men spread widely across the pampas, and enclosing in their circle the twenty or more wild animals which the Indians had rounded up. As dusk was falling they rode over the boundary line of the rancho, and with dexterous use of their whips, and by dint of much shouting and spurring, managed to drive their catch into a huge corral, several of which had been built at different parts of the estate.

"They will be secure there for the night, and we can leave them," said Mr. Blunt. "Let us get our supper and turn in. I don't think we need fear another charge from the cattle, but if you are looking for excitement to-morrow I fancy I can supply it. Come along, lad! We have had a grand day, one which you will not forget in a hurry, for you have smelled powder, and tasted the bullet of one of our Indians."

He laughed heartily as he slid to the ground, while Dudley carried the fingers of one hand to his chin and ear. The wounds smarted a little, but nothing more, and very soon he had forgotten them as he bustled about the fire. In addition, his thoughts were distracted by the recollection of the horses which they had captured, and by his friend's promise of excitement on the morrow.