CHAPTER VII

AN INDIAN INVASION

The sun was shining brightly on the following morning as Dudley stamped out the remains of the fire, for the gauchos and Mr. Blunt had impressed upon him the need of great care in that respect.

"The grass flares at once," said Pietro, when warning him, "and I have seen a gringo set the pampas on fire and have to ride for his life. Then scores of gauchos have had to gather, and for days perhaps the battle has gone on between them and the flames. The señor must cut the grass in a circle always before lighting the thistle tops, or he must choose a rocky place. Then he must always stamp out the embers, or the wind may carry a small portion, or animals kick the hot ashes into the grass."

Dudley carefully followed out the directions given him, and then sauntered off to the corral, carrying his huge spurs now with absolute ease and comfort, and being, in fact, quite unconscious of them. He found the gauchos collecting in preparation for the day's work, and as Mr. Blunt had not yet arrived, these men of the pampas seized the opportunity of seeing for themselves what the newcomer could do.

"There are no wagers this time, señor," said Pietro, standing beside Dudley with an unconscious air of pride about him, as if it were he who had introduced the latest gringo, and was responsible for his actions and for his ability. "The men have asked me how long you have been in the country, and they can scarcely believe that you are such a shot. I have told them, and so have the comrades who looked on, how you beat Giono. But no; they cannot credit the statements."

"And I cannot blame them," came the answer. "Of course it is funny to find a gringo able to shoot. But then you can let the gauchos know that Mr. Blunt gave me heaps of practice on the voyage out. I suppose, too, that there are some fellows who get hold of a knack quickly. For instance, some men can ride almost at once, while others can never manage a horse."

"That may be true in your country, señor, but not in this. Here we gauchos ride from infancy. There was a time, no doubt, before the Spaniards came, and introduced horses, when the Indian knew nothing about riding. But nowadays we never walk far. Horses are cheap. An active man who can wield a bolas can always borrow a mount and go out on the pampas to make a catch. Then he has merely to break in the animal. I said that we ride from infancy. I remember that the very first time I ever mounted a horse was when I was tiny, and far too small to reach his back in the ordinary way. Fortunately he was a quiet beast, for as he cropped the grass in front of my father's hut I caught him by the tail, and with the help of a brother, as small as myself, I swarmed up on to his quarters. That, señor, was my first attempt. As to the knack of shooting, every gaucho can shoot, but it is not all, or even many who have an eye and a hand such as yours. The gift is a fine one; I wish I had it. But the señor will do what the men wish?"

"Certainly, I'll do my best. That shot at the flying pith ball was more or less of a fluke, but I might manage it again. At any rate I'll try."

He pulled his revolver from his pocket as the men gathered round, and then stood nursing the barrel just as he had done on the previous occasion. Pietro himself threw the bolas as before, and to Dudley's delight, and, to be honest, to his amazement, he had the good fortune to strike the pith ball at the first shot and shatter it into a hundred or more pieces.

"_Bueno_! That is shooting, comrades," exclaimed the big, melancholy-looking man who had shaken hands with him on the previous day. "The señor can shoot, and by all accounts he is brave and can swim. Who knows, perhaps he can ride also. Whatever more he can do he is certainly the best gringo we have ever seen. Let the señor take the advice of an old gaucho. Let him learn to draw his weapon swiftly. Therein lies the secret of safety and of victory when dealing with the rough men of the pampas. Now we shall hope to show him how we ride."

He went into the corral with a dozen of his comrades, Pietro being amongst them, while Mr. Blunt came up to Dudley's side. Together they watched as the gauchos inspected the captive horses, their trained eyes picking out the younger and more suitable animals. As for the poor beasts themselves, they were excessively wild, and now that so many strange figures surrounded them they were almost mad with terror, all save one grand animal, the father of the herd. He stood with head lifted and ears pricked up, his eyes blazing; and presently, as the gauchos approached, he gave a snort of rage and dashed at them.

"Watch and you will see some quick work and some fun," said Mr. Blunt. "If that wild fellow were to catch any of the men it would go hard with them. Look at them running."

The gauchos took to their heels as the big horse made for them, and, separating as well as possible, they ran with all their speed to the rail of the corral. The majority reached it without incident, but it happened that one of them, as he ran, tripped over the trailing thong of his bolas, and went down with a crash. He was up in another second, but by then the beast was close at hand, and as Dudley watched he saw it spin round on its fore legs, as if it were a top, and lash out furiously with its heels. The aim was so true, and the manoeuvre so quickly carried out that it was wonderful that the gaucho was not struck. But he had not worked on the pampas for nothing, and no doubt he had seen many a similar adventure. Seeing that he could not escape, he watched the pursuing horse, and as the maddened brute twisted on its fore legs he threw himself on his face, the heels swishing a foot over his back. Then he rolled over and over, sprang to his feet, and rushed on again, reaching the rail of the corral as the horse came within striking distance again.

"He will be killed," shouted Dudley in his excitement. "The brute will kick the life out of him."

"He will escape. Redos knows the game," was Mr. Blunt's calm rejoinder. "A new hand would attempt to clamber over; our friend knows that that would be fatal."

The gaucho was, in fact, well able to take care of himself. As the horse twisted on its feet again he threw himself on the ground, and, repeating his previous tactics, rolled under the rail into safety, while the heels swished overhead and struck the rail with a clatter to be heard all over the corral.

"They will eject that fellow as a first precaution," said Mr. Blunt. "There goes the first bolas. Pietro is not the lad to make a mess of such a matter."

The gaucho to whom he had referred had taken his station on the second rail of the corral, some little way to the left of the angry horse, and could be seen swinging the two leaden balls of his bolas, waiting for a favorable opportunity to cast. It came in a few seconds. The beast still watched the man who had escaped, and, as he moved towards Pietro, trotted along beside the corral fence, snorting loudly, and eyeing him in no friendly manner. Once, in fact, he dashed open-mouthed in his direction, only to be brought up short by the stout fence. That was Pietro's opportunity, and he seized upon it. The balls swished overhead and suddenly darted forward. Dudley saw them separate, and in a moment they had twined round the neck and fore legs of the horse, wrapping the plaited thongs so thoroughly that escape was impossible. But the beast could still use its legs, and, startled by the blow of the balls, and by the thongs, it twisted round and made off at a furious pace, plunging as it went. But it was not to go far. Pietro had used his bolas before, and seeing that his aim was good, he had at once taken a turn of the thong round one of the posts, and a strong grip of the slack end, so that when the horse came to the full extent of the line he could bring him up short, and yet not so suddenly as to break the leather. Crash! The big beast staggered, rose high in the air, and then fell backwards, lashing with all four legs. It was up again in an incredibly short space of time, and then the same process was repeated. It darted away, was brought up with a jerk, and stood glaring about it, choking with the pressure of the thongs.

"He has made his fight, and is done for," said Mr. Blunt. "The men will slip a leather noose into his mouth, and will so hobble his legs with their bolas that he will be as helpless as a foal. Then they will drag him out of the corral. It is absolutely necessary to do that, for, as you see, he considers himself the guardian of the herd. He would kick any other horse to pieces that dared come near his flock out in the open, and here he would kill many of the gauchos if he were not banished. Look! there goes another bolas. He will be wound up so completely soon that he will have no more room for astonishment."

Dudley could not help but admire the dexterity and the courage of the gauchos. They tackled the big horse with method, and before very long had it completely at their command. Then, choking still, and half-stifled by a noose the grip of which could be increased at any instant, they dragged it to the opening of the corral by means of the thong passed over its chin, and with a quick movement set it free. A whip cracked behind it, and in an instant the noble brute was careering away. Half a dozen mares that were too old to be of any use were quickly disposed of, the gauchos mounting their horses and cutting them out from the herd. And then the real work of the day commenced.

"There are some who would let the beasts run wild in the corrals for a month or so," said Mr. Blunt. "But there is no object in delaying, for they will be as wild and unruly then as they are now. You will see how we deal with them. In a month they will be useful animals, and as rideable as any we possess. But the task of breaking them in is no light one. Men are specially selected for it, and receive so much pay per animal; for it is dangerous work, and many gauchos are killed at it."

Dudley could believe that when half an hour had passed, and he had had an opportunity of seeing what actually occurred.

"The first thing is to get a halter on their heads, and a leather bit in their mouths, señor," said Pietro, coming to his side. "Then the saddle must be fitted. That troubles them more perhaps than does the bit. Look, now, at the young horse our friend is selecting."

The big gaucho who had shown his friendliness was striding about in the corral, and eyeing the wild young horses there with the utmost care. Presently he selected a fine beast, well grown, and possessing a large amount of bone and muscle. It was as wild almost as the first had been, but not quite so courageous, for it kept its distance from these men. However, it was gradually driven into a corner, and then, finding its tormentors closing in, it swung round and galloped past them.

"A fine shot, señor! Our comrade can use the bolas," sang out Pietro, as the tall gaucho swung his implement and flung it at the heels of the horse. In a moment the animal was down, its legs entwined by the thongs, and as it lay there helplessly a halter was placed over its head, and then a bit of strong but soft leather was placed in its mouth.

"It would never do to use an iron one, señor," explained Pietro. "That would be asking too much of a horse. See how he frets now. But he has worse to bear, and in a moment there will be a struggle."

Having safely placed the bit in position, the big gaucho knotted the reins on the neck of the beast so that they would be ready to hand when the moment came to mount. Then he beckoned to a comrade, who ran up with the saddle. At the same moment three of the gauchos took firm hold of the halter by means of the rope attached to it and pulled till the animal was lying almost on its heels.

"On with the saddle," sang out their leader, and at the word the flaps were dropped on either side.

"Now let go the heels."

The thongs which encircled its legs were carefully unwound, leaving the horse free to rise. But it lay for a few seconds, bewildered at such unaccustomed treatment. Then, feeling more freedom in its legs, it rose to its feet with a jerk, and stood looking about, uncertain how to act or where to run. The big gaucho took instant advantage of the delay. Speaking in a soothing voice to the animal, he stepped silently to its side, stretched under the belly, and made the girths fast. Then he placed a hand on the neck, unknotted the reins, and leaped into the saddle with an agile bound. The spell under which the poor beast labored was broken instantly. It staggered under the weight for one brief second, and then rose on its hind legs till it seemed that it would topple over.

"The real fight begins now," said Pietro, who still stood beside Dudley. "Our friend has work before him, for that is a strong young horse, which will not give in without a struggle. Ah, he has his stirrups, and his feet are well home! Our comrade is one of the best of horse breakers."

Dudley watched the scene which followed with breathless interest, for he had never seen its like. He had heard of cowboys and their feats of horsemanship, but had never conceived it possible that any man could keep in his saddle as on this occasion. For the horse was maddened. The load on his back terrified it, and for a quarter of an hour it raged up and down the corral, rising on its heels, bucking, and giving such enormous leaps that had it attempted the same close to the rails it would have easily cleared them. And all the while the gaucho clung like a leech to it, while the cruel rowels of his spurs struck the heaving flanks incessantly, till the blood trickled from many a wound.

"It is no time for soft measures, Dudley," said Mr. Blunt. "It is kinder to be harsh now, for once and all, than constantly to repeat the cruelty. That horse is getting beaten. In a couple of hours he will be docile. How would you care to try your horsemanship?"

"Not at all," was the candid answer. "I should be sprawling after the first half-minute. But you said he would be beaten in two hours. Will he be able to go on plunging and bucking for such a time?"

"He might, but our object is to wind him. The gaucho will take him for a gallop and give him his head."

The time had apparently come for this portion of the breaking-in, and a few moments later there was a warning shout from the struggling gaucho, a number of the men lined up between the other horses and the exit, and then the animal he rode was steered out of the corral. Once outside there was nothing to limit its pace, and it set off at a furious gallop, lashed into frenzy by the whip which the gaucho now used, and smarting under the cruel rowels of the spurs.

"He will go miles," said Mr. Blunt, "and when he returns he will be like a naughty schoolboy who has come to school for the first time after being given free play at home. He will have met with his first master, and will be aching after his very first lesson. In a week he will be a likely horse, and in a month he will whinny a welcome to the man who now treats him so harshly. Let us go along the corral and watch the other men."

Nearly a dozen other horses were meanwhile being roped in, and for the next two hours Dudley watched the same process repeated, but with variations. Sometimes a horse had less spirit, and was beaten very early, even consented to trot round the corral without attempting to get rid of its rider. But in every case, whatever the fight shown, they were taken out of the corral for a long burst over the pampas. Soon the first one was seen returning, limping over the grass, and looking as if it could barely drag one leg after the other. Indeed the poor brute had been ridden to a finish, and could scarcely reach the corral. It was taken to one corner, the bit slipped from its mouth and the saddle from its back. At once it lay down on the ground, disdaining the fresh grass placed beside it.

"He is hopelessly beaten and as tired as a dog," said Mr. Blunt. "He will lie there for twenty-four hours perhaps, and will not touch a morsel of feed, nor any water. Then he will recover, and our big friend will be there to talk kindly to him, to encourage him, and to comfort him with a bundle of sweet grass. Now, what do you think of our methods of taming horses?"

"They are utterly unlike any I had ever conceived. They look very cruel at first sight, but I can see that in the end it is better and easier for the horse to be beaten outright, than to be subdued by a series of attempts each one of which must terrify him. It will be a long time before I shall be able to ride like these gauchos."

"You are right there, lad, for one cannot pick up, even at your young age, a thing with which these fine fellows may be said to grow up. They are born riders, and they have need to be, for a bucking wild horse is no easy beast to sit on. Now we will return to the cattle and watch the branding. These are all things that I want you to learn to do or to be able to criticize, for in a little while you will be the agent in charge during my absence."

Two months later Dudley had become quite an old hand on the rancho, and was by no means a gringo any longer. Indeed, thanks to his encounter with Giono, he had come to the gauchos employed by Mr. Blunt with a strong and telling introduction, an introduction which appealed to these wild men of the pampas far better than wealth would have done. They admired a man who could shoot and who had courage. They liked to see a youngster conquer difficulties, and they had watched Dudley as he gained no mean mastership over horses. Then they had seen him under fire, and had noted with what indifference he treated his wound.

"He is a gringo who meets with our approval, and whom we can obey," said Pietro one night as the gauchos were collected round the fire. "He has no airs and graces. He is glad to meet each one of us, to shake hands, and to chat. He is different from some of the stuck-up fools who come our way on occasion."

Thanks to the friendship of the gauchos, and to his own energy, our hero very soon became of the greatest value to his employer, till at length he was appointed his overseer, and had complete management of the rancho.

"It gives you a good deal of responsibility, which is a thing which every lad ought to be able to take, and it also lets the men see that I have confidence in you," said Mr. Blunt. "That encourages them to look to you as a leader and master, and I'm glad indeed to find such a friendly feeling amongst you all."

One day Dudley had ridden to the far western boundary of the rancho, and hearing the news from one of the gauchos that horses had been seen far out on the pampas, he pressed on till he came to the hill from the summit of which he and his employer had once before seen a herd. None were in sight, though he imagined he saw some dark specks in the distance, which might be horses.

"We are in want of some," he said to himself, "and so I think I had better go ahead. If those are horses I shall know within two hours, and then could be back with the gauchos in the morning."

He shook his reins and trotted on for some miles, when, judging that he was now near enough to the objects he had seen in the distance, he made for a slight rise and clambered to the summit. He had hardly reached it when he was startled by a loud report, by a puff of smoke a few yards to his right, and at the same instant by a curious movement in his hat. It jerked back suddenly, spun round, and then settled on his head again in the most extraordinary and disconcerting manner. There was a shout, and then from right and left a chorus of frantic yells. Figures sprang up from the hollows and the long grass, while twenty horsemen galloped from behind a small clump of trees.

"Indians! A hundred of them perhaps!" was Dudley's startled exclamation. "I shall have to run for my life."

He took to his heels at once, and raced down the hillock towards his horse, the gun which he carried over his shoulders pounding against his back. He had fifty yards to cover, and long before he had gained his mount the Indian who had fired at him had reached the top of the hillock and had thrown himself on one knee. There came the ring of an iron ramrod, for this savage was armed with an old-fashioned muzzle-loader. Then followed the bellow of the piece, while a ball hummed over the pampas, missed our hero by little more than an inch, and, flying on, struck his horse just in front of the saddle, causing him to rear up, give a startled neigh, and then trot on a few paces.

"Whoa! Steady, horse!" shouted Dudley, knowing that his life depended on his mount. "Steady, boy! I'm coming."

It was a fortunate thing for him that he had made a point of accustoming his mount to his voice, for otherwise the frightened animal would have bolted. As it was it stood irresolute, listening to Dudley's words, its ears pricked up and its eyes cast back at the figures now pouring over the summit. There were at least forty dismounted Indians, and a rattling volley came from their muzzle-loaders as the fugitive reached the side of his horse, the bullets whizzing overhead and on either side, but missing man and animal by good chance. Dudley vaulted into his saddle promptly, clutched at his reins, and, turning his face towards the distant rancho, set spurs to the flanks of his horse. And then commenced a flight which was all too exciting for the young fellow who was being chased.

Bang! Bang! Another volley rattled from the direction of the hillock, a scattered, irregular volley, broken by shouts and wild yells. Then there was a dull thud and the horse sprang into the air and then galloped on at an even greater pace, for it had been stung by a bullet which had struck it on the quarter. However, the range was rather far for a muzzle-loader, and it happened that the wound was only a superficial one.

"Steady, boy!" cried Dudley, taking good hold of his reins and looking round. "We have a long gallop before us and we had better be careful. Steady! Their horsemen are not in sight."

Pulling gently at the mouth of the excited steed he managed to steady its pace a little, till it was bounding at a good gallop over the pampas. It was a fine beast, and capable of a long race, but not at full speed all the way. Dudley knew that, and like the jockey who has a good horse beneath him, and other fine ones to beat, he determined to husband the strength of his mount, so as to keep it comfortably ahead of the pursuers as far as the rancho.

A minute later a mob of shrieking Indians burst over the top of the hillock and came galloping down, their arms waving in the air, guns flourishing overhead, and their bodies bent low in the saddle. They were a set of cut-throats in appearance, and bellowed and shrieked in a manner which gave some indication of their ferocity. But no one who watched their mad pursuit could have failed to admire them to some extent. The men were part and parcel of their horses. They rode on a strip of leather for the most part, and had no stirrups. Their knees lay close to their horses and they sat as if they were glued to their places. There was an easy swing and poise about them, too, which told that they trusted entirely to grip and to balance, and were thus able to do without saddle and stirrups.

"A nasty-looking lot of beggars," thought Dudley, "and well mounted, as they always are. It will be a close race, and very soon I shall have to press my horse. The fellows haven't saddles either. I wish I hadn't. It gives them an advantage, for I carry extra weight."

That set him thinking, for the native saddle used by the gauchos was a somewhat heavy and cumbersome affair, and, to one used to an English hunting saddle, it was by no means too comfortable. He turned again to watch the Indians, noticing that already quite a number had commenced to fall to the rear. Then he bent towards his horse's neck and slid his left hand down to the buckle which secured the girth.

"It could be done," he said to himself. "I could unbuckle the strap and so loosen the saddle. The thing is, could I manage to pass it backwards without toppling over?"

He thought again, and, as if to practise the movement slipped his toes from the stirrups, for he had often ridden without the latter and knew that he would not tumble. A little consideration showed him that the feat he contemplated was possible, and knowing well that if he intended to relieve his horse of some weight it would be wiser to do so now, at the very commencement of the struggle, he promptly slid his hand down to the buckle again and in a minute had it loosened. He gripped the neck of his mount with the hand which held the reins, and, leaning forward, lifted himself, while with the free hand he pushed the saddle backwards. Once he swerved dangerously, for the task was no easy one, and at the sight a howl came from the pursuing mob.

"Shout away!" cried Dudley, as he regained his balance. "You've not got me yet, and if I can prevent you, well, I will."

One more effort and the saddle was behind him. A touch, and it, together with his poncho and blanket and a couple of heavy saddle bags, overbalanced and fell to the ground with a crash. His gallant beast was now on more even terms with those ridden by the Indians, and as he felt the relief he tossed his head and pulled at the bit.

"Steady, lad!" shouted his rider again. "We're keeping just nicely ahead, and there is no occasion to do more. They are getting broken up a little. Some are being left behind."

His knees were close in to his horse's side now, and he bent low, till his figure hardly caught the wind. Every two or three seconds he turned his head to watch the Indians, and noted that the worst mounted were already being left in the rear, while those who were foremost had not gained an inch. They were two hundred yards behind, galloping hard; but though he looked carefully he could not see a whip used, nor did they seem to wear spurs.

"Wily foxes," he said, "they are doing the same thing! They are carefully holding in their animals, probably thinking that they will tire mine out. That will suit me well, for the rancho is not more than six miles away now, and we can keep this pace up for a longer distance."

He began to feel more confident, and though the shouts and screams of the pursuers made him feel inclined to use his spurs, and force the pace, he went on as before, checking his speed by theirs, disregarding the reports of the weapons which they occasionally snapped at him, and always maintaining the same distance in advance. But he was by no means out of the woods, as he was shortly to learn. The Indians had seen him free his horse of the saddle, and had increased their angry shouts. But when three miles had been covered, the dozen or more who still remained had settled down to a grim silence. They could not afford to waste their breath, nor could they reload their weapons at that pace. Instead, they began to let their horses out little by little, and very soon they were using their whips, sending their animals along at breakneck pace.

"Time for me to push along," thought Dudley. "In a few minutes I ought to be in the rancho and among friends, so I have only to keep going for a little while. Come along, boy!"

This time the rowels of his spurs touched the flanks, and his beast increased its pace, and for a time held the distance it had gained at the first. One by one the pursuing Indians dropped off, the pace being too hot for their horses, till three only were left. But these were beautifully mounted, and, now that the crisis of the affair had arrived, they showed that there was still a little pace to be squeezed out of their horses. Their whips cracked, their bony heels went to the flanks, and their beasts steadily drew up to the quarry. Then one of the three disengaged himself from his comrades inch by inch till he was some yards ahead, and was rapidly overhauling Dudley. The man carried a revolver in one hand, and instead of a whip used his cruel spurs continuously. Dudley glanced round at him, gave an exclamation, and then slipped his hand into the pocket carried on the hip of his riding leggings. For this was not an Indian. The man was dressed as a gaucho, and it wanted only a second glance at that evil face, at those deep-set and scowling eyes, to tell him that it was Giono, the man who had warned him to beware, and who had left the rancho breathing vengeance against the two white men who resided there.