CHAPTER VIII

DUDLEY LEADS THE GAUCHOS

"He is better mounted than I am, and there is bound to be a fight," thought Dudley as the minutes flew by and Giono gained rapidly upon him, leaving his two comrades some yards in rear. "I had better keep a careful watch on his revolver, and if he lifts it I will fire."

They were close to the edge of the rancho now, and half a mile ahead the rails of the corral could be seen. But though our hero strained his eyes in that direction there was not a single horseman. Nothing but the corral broke the flat expanse of waving pampas. He was alone, and must look to himself for safety.

Crack! As he stared ahead there came the sharp report of a pistol, and on glancing behind he saw a wreath of smoke blowing away from the muzzle of Giono's revolver.

"Missed," thought Dudley, with no little satisfaction. "The range is too long as yet, and even if he hits me the bullet will do no great harm. But he is pulling up fast. I wonder whether, if I hit him, the others will give up the chase?"

Crack! Once again the report came to his ear, and instinctively he crouched lower as a bullet hissed over his head. He was within range then, and must act if he was to escape at all. Keeping low on the back of his horse, with his weight thrown as much forward as possible, he glanced round again, his head twisted to the right. Giono was standing in his stirrups, his eye blazing with wrath, and fierce determination written on every line of his ugly face. He lifted the weapon again, took very careful aim, and was on the point of pressing the trigger when Dudley gripped the butt of his revolver and sent a bullet flying behind. And here again his happy knack of shooting, the quick eye and ready hand which he possessed, stood him in good stead. Giono gave a shout, clapped the hand which held the reins to his chest, and instantly crumpled up on the bow of his saddle. He swayed from side to side, and made frantic efforts to cling to his seat. His spurs almost met beneath his horse's belly, while the rowels dug into the poor beast, making it gallop even harder. Then this powerful gaucho, hardened to exposure and fatigue, recovered his strength and threw off the sudden weakness caused by his wound. There was a thin streak of blood at the corner of his mouth as he sat up with a jerk, and the scowl on his face had increased in intensity. Without lifting his weapon he pointed the muzzle at the lad in front of him and pulled the trigger.

Dudley learned some ten minutes later what happened after that momentous shot, for within two seconds he was unconscious. The bullet had missed him entirely, but flying low had passed between the heels of his horse, and had struck behind the knee of one of the fore legs, bringing the gallant beast toppling on to its head.

"When the señor is ready it will be as well to move on," he suddenly heard a voice say. "The señor is better. He has fallen heavily, and the ground was hard. Pepito, bring your water sack, and we will sprinkle his face and so refresh him."

The words sounded as if they had been spoken yards and yards away. They came to Dudley's ears in a strangely blurred fashion, failing to rouse him, and leaving him to puzzle over their meaning.

"The ground was hard, and he had fallen heavily. Who had fallen heavily?" he wondered. "They are joking. Perhaps they want to disturb me. But I won't move. I'm very comfortable, thank you!"

He mumbled the last words in a low voice, and in tones which showed that he was feeling irritable. In fact, his mind was more or less of a blank. He had no idea who was speaking, and he cared less. He felt drowsy, and objected to being disturbed.

"Bueno, Pepito! The water comes in handy, and our young master will thank us for it. Lift his head so. Now I will dash some of the contents of this sack in his face."

On the pampas it was the custom to carry water in a canvas bag, just as it is in Egypt, and in Africa, and in many another country. Pepito, a young gaucho who had been sent for his store, stood by grinning with anxiety, for he had taken a fancy to this young English fellow, while Pietro knelt and lifted Dudley's head. Then the tall gaucho with the melancholy air deliberately dashed some of the water in the face of the half-unconscious youth.

"Here, I say!" gasped Dudley, frantically struggling to sit up, and opening his eyes wide. "Look here! No more of that! If you try the game again I'll----"

He stopped short, his mouth wide open, and his eyes fixed on Pietro's honest face. Up to that very instant his wits had been sadly wandering, and he had imagined himself at school again. This was, so he thought, a game being played at his expense, and----

"Why, it's Pietro, and that's Pepito! What are you grinning for?"

The young gaucho turned his head away in confusion, while Pietro lifted his patient higher.

"Yes, we are here, señor," he said. "Is the señor right in his mind now? Is his head sore? For the fall was a heavy one, and, as I said, the ground is hard."

"Was his head sore?" Dudley sat up suddenly and gazed about him in bewilderment, for he had still no recollection of what had happened a few minutes before. He ran his hands over his head, and then turned to speak again to Pepito, only to feel acute pain in his neck, and give a sudden cry.

"That is queer. My neck feels as if it had been almost broken, or as if some fellow had collared me and given it a firm and friendly screw. Hallo!"

This time his eyes fell on something which could not but remind him of his exciting chase, for a dozen yards away his own horse stood shaking after its frantic exertions, and blowing harder than Dudley had ever seen one blow before. The gallant beast was white with foam, and its flanks moved in and out spasmodically. Its head hung low, and generally its appearance was one of absolute exhaustion.

"He helped to save the señor's life," said Pietro. "He galloped well. But the señor was wise to shake off the saddle. Had he not done so this Giono would have certainly overhauled him earlier, and then----"

"And then? Yes?" asked Dudley.

"The señor would not be here. The señor would be dead. As it is, Giono is dead. He has a dozen bullets in him in addition to the one which you sent. Come, the señor is better."

Dudley was. In a flash he remembered his flight and all that had happened up to the report which had come from Giono's revolver. After that all was a blank.

"Tell me what happened," he asked, struggling to his feet and standing there with Pietro and another gaucho supporting him. "No, leave me alone please, for I can stand. I am just a little giddy, that's all, and, phew! my neck!"

"It is a wonder it was not broken, señor," came the answer. "You shot out from the back of your horse and flew some yards before you landed. I made sure that you were killed, for you fell on your head and rolled over. Another man's neck would have been broken."

"Then I am saved for some other fate," laughed Dudley, beginning to feel better. "Many thanks, my friends, for helping me, and for the water. Now, what happened exactly?"

He beckoned to Pepito, took a deep draught from the sack, and then turned to Pietro again.

"Giono made a better shot the last time he ever pulled trigger than he would have done had he dared to fire at the flying pith ball of the bolas, señor. You had hit him hard in the chest, and he was bleeding. But, as I said, he had luck. His ball hit your beast behind the knee, and brought him down like a stone, just as you or I would fall if someone struck us in a similar position. You fell, as I have described, and in a moment Giono was pulling up beside you, while his two comrades were galloping to join him. They were a fine mark, and we dropped them at our first volley."

"You dropped them? How?"

Dudley was amazed, for he had seen none of his friends.

"We might have remained on our horses, señor. But then we knew that you could reach the rancho before the enemy, and even if you could not we could hardly help you, for you were within a mile before our lookout gave the alarm. There is a small hollow on our left, and there we placed our horses on their sides, and lay in wait for the Indians, guessing that you would pass near at hand. It was as well for the señor that we were there, for Giono would have committed murder."

"Then I have to thank you for a good deal more than the water," said Dudley gratefully. "I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. But were you not saying something about moving?"

"_Bueno_, señor! These demons are collecting away yonder, and our men say that there are three or four hundred. It would be as well to retire on the house shortly, for all are mounted, and could easily surround us. When the señor is himself again we will ride on."

"I am ready now," came the answer. "First tell me how many gauchos there are here."

"Forty, señor, and men have ridden off to tell the others to retire on the house."

"One moment, Pietro! They have orders to go, and I see them mounting; they have not left yet."

It was the tall gaucho who interposed, and at once Dudley took advantage of his information.

"Send them here immediately," he commanded, and in a voice which the gauchos were fully accustomed to, for quite unconsciously this young Englishman had acquired an air of authority since Mr. Blunt had given him the management. "Now, I want to ask a question. What becomes of our master's cattle if we retire?"

"They remain," came the unhesitating answer. "The Indians will probably attack us to-morrow, and if they are unsuccessful they will drive the cattle away. We shall call the gauchos from other ranches and shall follow, and no doubt we shall manage to capture many of the stolen beasts. There is never much fighting, señor, for the Indians move quickly, and give up all the cattle that lag. Our attention is thus engaged more with the beasts than with the enemy."

"While in any case our master is a heavy loser."

"That is so, señor," admitted Pietro ruefully; "but who can help it?"

"We can," came the prompt answer. "We can try to, at any rate. More than that, I fancy we might even read these fellows a lesson which will last them for many a year to come. Send those messengers to me."

Pietro and his comrades stared at Dudley as if they could not believe their ears. They had spent their lives on the pampas, and now and again it had happened that they or friends of theirs had been surrounded by the Indians, who were always hostile to the gauchos. Then they had had to fight, and the gauchos had plenty of pluck and determination, and knew how to make the most of a desperate situation. But their experience had also taught them that the Indians always raided in large numbers, which it would be foolish to oppose. These raids were very often, and in fact in nearly every case, sudden and unexpected, and retaliation was never very possible. Sometimes they had managed to round up some of the Indians as they drove the rancho cattle away, and then there had been slaughter. But as a general rule gauchos were pounced upon and killed barbarously, while those who escaped hung on the tail of the retreating Indians and did their best to recover some of the cattle, which were always the object of these raids. It was therefore somewhat startling to hear such a proposition.

"As the señor cares to order," said Pietro readily. "But how? We are willing to fight if he will show us how."

"Then listen to this. The beasts are six miles from this, at least they were early this morning when I rode out."

"They are there now, señor. The gauchos surround them."

"Then we will retire at once till we are well beyond the herd. There are three thousand of them, and the Indians will hardly dare to drive more. We will gallop away now, and by the time we reach our comrades it will be dusk."

"That is true, señor," came the cautious admission. "It will be dusk, but not so dark that the Indians cannot follow and surround the cattle. Three thousand is as many as they dare attempt to drive."

"Then tell me this, Pietro. Will they return towards their own country to-night, supposing they do not attack the house?"

"Surely not, señor. It would be madness to attempt to control so many beasts in the darkness, they would stampede. They will camp for the night, and I myself believe that, now that Giono is killed, they will not attempt an attack on the farm. They will surround the cattle, just as we do, and those who are not on guard will build a fire, kill a beast, and gorge themselves with the meat. I know them well; they are gluttons to a man."

"Then they will play into our hands. Listen to this. Send a messenger to each of our herds, and give them orders to call away all the gauchos who can be spared. They are to meet us five miles beyond the place for which we are now about to make. They are to ride silently, and are not to smoke or to attract the attention of the Indians. You follow me? Then let us ride."

The buzzing noise in his head was forgotten. He no longer felt the crick in his neck which had troubled him so much a few minutes before. He was all keenness to be moving, to perfect his scheme, and to do something to save his employer. For Dudley had often considered these Indian raids, and time and again had asked why it was that resistance was not better organized, and why the gauchos and their leaders did not combine rapidly, having some prearranged signal, and fall upon the enemy before they had retired too far. That was the only time when a blow could be struck, for to follow the Indians into their own country was out of the question, unless a large force were taken, and then there would be the added difficulties of transport of ammunition and food, besides the chance of failing to find water, always a danger in this pampas country, where streams were not abundant. Here was an opportunity to strike a blow, for, thanks to the late arrival of the Indians, it was already getting dusk, and would be dark before they could reach the nearest herd of cattle.

"You are sure that they will bivouac when they come up with the beasts?" he asked anxiously.

"I am certain, señor. Indians do not love moving about at night in any case, and it is more than likely that they have ridden far to-day. Their raids are usually successful because they arrive when least expected. They ride fast from their own country in the hope of falling upon the settlements before news of their coming can be sent. If they meet a stray gaucho they ride him down and shoot him lest he should carry the alarm. That is why the señor was chased, and why Giono was so intent on killing him. Their beasts have had a big day's work, and they will rest them as soon as possible, knowing that they have a bigger day before them on the morrow."

"Then we will mount and ride," said Dudley. "Pietro, take command of twenty of the gauchos, and stay here till the main body of the enemy appear, then retire before they can come within range. Let them think that you are terrified, and when once you get going, gallop back beyond the herd as fast as you can. By then it will be dark."

"Surely it will, señor; the sun is sinking fast, and twilight is never long with us. We wait, and retire when the time comes. We shall find you and our comrades beyond?"

"We shall be six miles or rather less on the far side of the herd. Be careful, and good luck to you and your friends."

There was a calm businesslike air about the young gringo which impressed the gauchos, the air of modest self-assurance which had impressed them when this lad had joined them for the first time and had won his match against Giono. Already they had become accustomed to receiving orders from him, and, more than that, he had always been so tactful in giving them, was so friendly with them one and all, and so ready to accept advice from these honest and experienced men of the pampas, that there was not one who did not swear by him.

"He is a youth, it is true, comrades," Pietro had said on one occasion when the new manager was under discussion, "he was a gringo only a little while ago, but, I ask, is there here a man who could draw on him and hope to be alive within a minute?"

"There is not one," came the emphatic answer from a comrade. "And yet, I declare that that is wrong after all; for our young master, it is true, would have his muzzle at our heads before we could wink, but would not fire. He knows that we like him."

There was a chorus of assent, and then and there all declared that the arrangement made by Mr. Blunt was excellent, and met with their approval. They thought a lot of the new manager. He was not conceited, not full of foolish airs and graces, and by no means soft. He didn't know everything, and was not ashamed to acknowledge his inexperience. But when it came to giving orders, he was the one, and already they understood that he would have no unnecessary interference. Mr. Blunt was away just at this time, and so it was natural that they should turn to Dudley.

Pietro selected his men at once, and each one stood beside his horse, his gun over his shoulder, while the gaucho told them in his own tongue and in the plainest language what was expected of them.

"This is not to be the usual raid, comrades," he said. "The Indians are not to have it all their own way as formerly, for our young master will attack them. We are to wait here till they come up in force, and then we are to retire in haste as if we feared them. Not a shot is to be fired. Watch me, and when I shout, turn your horses and gallop back past the herd. It will be getting dark by then, and as soon as we are out of sight we will draw in together and trot on to the meeting place."

It was pretty to watch the way in which this party of gauchos swung themselves into their native saddles. Pietro gave the word, and in less than half a minute the men were in their seats, their toes home in the stirrups, and their weapons in their hands. And there they sat like statues, the fringes of their leggings blowing out on either side, their broad-brimmed hats pulled down well, so that they should not lose them, and a general air of expectancy on every face. For this was so different from their action on former occasions. No man likes to be hounded off his own land, and see the possessions of which he has had charge filched from beneath his very nose. Such a course of conduct is demoralizing. The thought that they were to make a struggle, not for their own lives so much as for their master's property, heartened these fine gauchos, and they cast many an admiring glance at their young commander. Dudley limped across the grass, for he was stiff and sore after such a tumble, and clambered into the saddle. He was to ride a spare horse, while his own fine beast was led, for it was still too exhausted for active work, and could hardly have supported a man's weight. Then he waved his arm, and at the signal the remainder of the gauchos fell in beside him and walked their horses back towards the spot where the herd was being guarded. Four miles beyond, a dozen galloping figures were seen dimly in the distance, and a little later these gauchos, besides some five or six more, had joined their force, increasing its numbers till they were quite respectable.

"There is firing behind, señor," said Pepito, suddenly, for he was riding beside Dudley. "Listen again! There and there! The Indians are within range, perhaps, or they are driving our friends before them. It is too dark to see far. If it were early morning we could detect their figures."

Dudley reined in his horse and sat upright, listening.

"We will halt here for a while in case they are in difficulties," said he promptly; "then we can all ride on together."

A quarter of an hour passed before a group of horsemen was seen approaching through the dusk. It was Pietro and his party, and there was a broad grin of satisfaction on every face. The two parties fell in together and trotted on over the swelling pampas till they had passed the herd for which the Indians were making and had gone four miles beyond.

"We had fun, señor," said Pietro, as he wiped the perspiration from his face with his horny fingers and lifted his hat to cool his head. "They came towards us in one big mass, with a few scouts out on their flanks. There were between three and four hundred, perhaps, and by the manner in which they rode it was clear that they imagined that there was nothing to fear. They sent a hundred towards us, and long before these men were in range they began to fire their weapons. We waited till the bullets dropped pretty close, and then we bolted as if we were scared for our lives. Is that as the señor wished?"

"You have done splendidly, Pietro, and must have increased their assurance. They will perhaps be less careful to-night."

"They will set a good watch on the cattle, of that the señor may be sure," was Pietro's answer; "but the main body will camp, and do as I said before. Meat is not too plentiful with these savages, and when they are encamped so close to a herd which belongs to someone else, and when a dozen more or less of the beasts make no difference, they will slaughter enough to satisfy the hunger of a thousand men and will gorge themselves. They do not fear attack. Why should they, when there are such numbers of them?"

"That is just the little point which is going to help us, Pietro," smiled Dudley. "It is the general who despises his adversaries and who fails to set a careful watch who is caught napping on occasion. It happens that a spiritless enemy take a sudden and unaccountable change. Something gives them pluck, though that is never wanting with the gauchos, or someone suggests another course of action which seems worth trying; then your careless and cocksure general has a fall--he and his men get a hiding."

Pietro laughed heartily, and a number of the men near at hand joined in. For all could understand English, and speak a little, while Pietro, Pepito, and a few others could converse fluently. They gathered the meaning of their young leader instantly, and liked the plain way in which he put this last matter.

"The señor is right, as he has been before," laughed Pietro. "If he had not been here we should have had no warning, some of our number would have been killed, and then we should have galloped for the house, leaving the cattle to themselves. Now we see that there is another course. The señor can rely on us, for we would do much to break up these enemies, and check them thoroughly. Does the señor know what happens should a gaucho be captured?"

"Something unpleasant, I imagine," smiled Dudley.

"I will not say. But it is bad. They are brutes, and treat prisoners with frightful cruelty. But we are four miles from the herd. What shall we do next?"

"Eat and smoke, if you can get into some little hollow," was the prompt answer. "When are these fellows asleep?"

"By midnight they will be gorged and drowsy. By two in the morning they will be almost helpless. Their sense of hearing will be dulled, and for the most part they will be fast asleep."

"And the dawn breaks at about four-thirty. Good!" exclaimed Dudley. "Well, what about the meal?"

"The señor thinks of the comfort of his men always. There is a dip in the pampas beyond the next rise; there we can light fires and eat and rest."

The wide sweeping pampas ran on in a long succession of rolls, which were hardly distinguishable to those riding over them. But they were there for all that, and often enough a party of horsemen situated in one depression would be out of sight of a second in a depression running parallel. Dudley and his men took advantage of this fact, and very soon had hobbled their horses, had slipped the bits behind the chins, so that the animals might graze, and had gathered bundles of thistles. These were set fire to beneath an awning of blankets, for otherwise the glare might have been seen in the sky. Cuts of juicy meat were skewered on sticks or on ramrods, and very soon there was a fizzle about the flames, and an odor which made a hungry man sniff and grow fidgety. Pipes were taken from saddle bags, filled with rank weed which would try the stomach even of an army recruit, and carefully lit at the embers.

It was a peaceful and very contented body of men who sat about that shrouded fire and discussed their evening meal, a party of good fellows who were strangely elated, and who cast glances of the utmost confidence at their white leader. The hours flew by, and as midnight came, many of the gauchos had already fallen asleep.

"We will let them rest till all is ready," said Dudley in a whisper. "Now, Pietro, I am going over there to the cattle to see what the Indians are doing. If things are fairly quiet we will make a movement. Send Pepito with me, and bring along the main party in half an hour's time, taking care to halt them a good mile from the enemy."

The gaucho's mouth opened wide with astonishment. He stared at the set face before him, half-lit by the flare from the fire, and then altered his mind. He was about to argue, to remonstrate, and as quickly decided that words were not wanted.

"The señor is pleased to order," he said. "We shall obey. In an hour from now we shall be a mile from the enemy."

"Good. Then I shall meet you there and give further instructions. Recollect, silence must be kept. No pipes are to be smoked, and, above all, men must be careful of their weapons. Good-by!"

Pepito was beside them now, and at a word from Dudley he strode by his side out of the camp and away in the direction of the Indians.