CHAPTER TEN.

  GASPAR, THE GAUCHO.

  Over the broad undulating plain which extends between Halberger's houseand the deserted _tolderia_ of the Tovas, a horseman is seen proceedingin the direction of the latter. He is a man about middle age, of hale,active appearance, in no way past his prime. Of medium size, or ratherabove it, his figure though robust is well proportioned, with strongsinewy arms and limbs lithe as a panther's, while his countenance,notwithstanding the somewhat embrowned skin, has a pleasant, honestexpression, evincing good nature as a habitually amiable temper, at thesame time that his features show firmness and decision. A keenlyglancing eye, coal-black, bespeaks for him both courage andintelligence; while the way in which he sits his horse, tells that he isnot new to the saddle; instead, seeming part of it. His garb ispeculiar, though not to the country which claims him as a native.Draping down from his shoulders and spreading over the hips of his horseis a garment of woollen fabric, woven in stripes of gaudy colours,alternating white, yellow, and red, of no fit or fashion, but simplykept on by having his head thrust through a slit in its centre. It is a_poncho_--the universal wrap or cloak of every one who dwells upon thebanks of the La Plata or Parana. Under is another garment, of whitecotton stuff, somewhat resembling Zouave breeches, and called_calzoneras_, these reaching a little below his knees; while his feetand ankles are encased in boots of his own manufacture, seamless, sinceeach was originally the skin of a horse's leg, the hoof serving as heel,with the shank shortened and gathered into a pucker for the toe. Tannedand bleached to the whiteness of a wedding glove, with some ornamentalstitching and broidery, it furnishes a foot gear, alike comfortable andbecoming. Spurs, with grand rowels, several inches in diameter,attached to the heels of these horse-hide boots, give them someresemblance to the greaves and ankle armour of mediaeval times.

  All this has he whose dress we are describing; while surmounting hishead is a broad-brimmed hat with high-peaked crown and plume of _rheas_feathers--underneath all a kerchief of gaudy colour, which draping downover the nape of his neck protects it from the fervid rays of the Chacosun. It is a costume imposing and picturesque; while the caparison ofhis horse is in keeping with it. The saddle, called _recado_, isfurnished with several coverings, one upon another, the topmost,_coronilla_, being of bright-coloured cloth elaborately quilted; whilethe bridle of plaited horse-hair is studded with silver joints, fromwhich depend rings and tassels, the same ornamenting the breast-pieceand neck straps attaching the martingale, in short, the completeequipment of a _gaucho_. And a gaucho he is--Gaspar, the hero of ourtale.

  It has been already said, that he is in the service of Ludwig Halberger.So is he, and has been ever since the hunter-naturalist settled inParaguay; in the capacity of steward, or as there called _mayor-domo_; aterm of very different signification from the _major-domo_ orhouse-steward of European countries, with dress and duties differing aswell. No black coat, or white cravat, wears he of Spanish America, nospotless stockings, or soft slipper shoes. Instead, a costume moreresembling that of a Cavalier, or Freebooter; while the services he iscalled upon to perform require him to be not only a first-classhorseman, but able to throw the lazo, catch a wild cow or colt, and tamethe latter--in short, take a hand at anything. And at almost anythingGaspar can; for he is man-of-all-work to the hunter-naturalist, as wellas his man of confidence.

  Why he is riding away from the estancia at such an hour--for it isafternoon--may be guessed from what has gone before. For it is on thatsame day, when Halberger and his daughter started off to visit theIndian village; and as these had not returned soon as promised, theanxiety of the wife, rendered keen by the presentiment which hadoppressed her at their parting, became at length unbearable; and torelieve it Gaspar has been despatched in quest of them.

  No better man in all the pampas region, or South America itself, couldhave been sent on such an errand. His skill as a tracker is notexcelled by any other gaucho in the Argentine States, from which heoriginally came; while in general intelligence, combined with courage,no one there, or elsewhere, could well be his superior. As the Senorasaid her last words to him at parting, and listened to his in return,she felt reassured. Gaspar was not the man to make delay, or come backwithout the missing one. On this day, however, he deviates from hisusual habit, at the same time from the route he ought to take--thatleading direct to the Indian village, whither he knows his master andyoung mistress to have gone. For while riding along going at a gentlecanter, a cock "ostrich" starts up before his horse, and soon after thehen, the two trotting away over the plain to one side. It so chancesthat but the day before his master had given him instructions to catch amale ostrich for some purpose of natural history--the first he shouldcome across. And here was one, a splendid bird, in full flowingplumage. This, with an observation made, that the ostriches seem lessshy than is usual with these wary creatures, and are moving away butslowly, decides him to take after and have a try at capturing the cock.Unloosing his _bolas_ from the saddle-bow, where he habitually carriesthis weapon, and spurring his horse to a gallop, off after them he goes.

  Magnificently mounted, for a gaucho would not be otherwise, he succeedsin his intent, after a run of a mile or so, getting close enough to thebirds to operate upon them with his _bolas_. Winding these around hishead and launching them, he has the satisfaction of seeing the cockostrich go down upon the grass, its legs lapped together tight as if hehad hard spliced them.

  Riding on up to the great bird, now hoppled and without any chance toget away from him, he makes things more sure by drawing out his knifeand cutting the creature's throat. Then releasing the _bolas_, hereturns them to the place from which he had taken them--on the horn ofhis _recado_. This done, he stands over the dead _rhea_, thusreflecting:--

  "I wonder what particular part of this beauty--it is a beauty, by theway, and I don't remember ever having met with a finer bird of thebreed--but if I only knew which one with identical parts the masterwants, it would save me some trouble in the way of packing, and my horseno little of a load. Just possible the _dueno_ only cares for thetail-feathers, or the head and beak, or it may be but the legs. Well,as I can't tell which, there's but one way to make sure about it--thatis, to take the entire carcase along with me. So, go it must."

  Saying this, he lays hold of a leg, and drags the ostrich nearer to hishorse, which all the time stands tranquilly by: for a gaucho's steed istrained to keep its place, without need of any one having care of it.

  "_Carramba_!" he exclaims, raising the bird from the ground, "what aweight the thing is! Heavy as a quarter of beef! Now I think on't, itmight have been better if I'd let the beast alone, and kept on withoutgetting myself into all this bother. Nay, I'm sure it would have beenwiser. What will the Senora say, when she knows of my thus dallying--trifling with the commands she gave me? Bah! she won't know anythingabout it--and needn't. She will, though, if I stand dallying here. Imustn't a minute longer. So up, Senor Avertruz, and lie there."

  At which, he hoists the ostrich--by the gauchos called "_avertruz_"--tothe croup of his _recado_; where, after a rapid manipulation of cords,the bird is made fast, beyond all danger of dropping off.

  This done, he springs upon his horse's back, and then looks out to seewhich direction he should now take. A thing not so easily determined;for in the chase after it, the ostrich had made more than one double;and, although tolerably familiar with the topography of that plain, thegaucho is for the time no little confused as to his whereabouts. Norstrange he should be; since the palm-groves scattered over it are all somuch alike, and there is no high hill, nor any great eminence, to guidehim. Ridges there are, running this way and that; but all only gentleundulations, with no bold projection, or other land-mark that he canremember.

  He begins to think he is really strayed, lost; and, believing so, isangry with himself for having turned out of his path--as the path of hisduty. Angry at the ostrich, too, that tempted him.

  "_Avertruz, maldito_!" he exclaims, ter
ms in the gaucho vernacularsynonymous with "ostrich, be hanged!" adding, as he continues to gazehopelessly around, "I wish I'd let the long-legged brute go its way.Like as not, it'll hinder me going mine, till too late. And if so,there'll be a pretty tale to tell! _Santissima_! whatever am I to do?I don't even know the way back to the house; though that wouldn't be anygood if I did. I daren't go there without taking some news with me.Well; there's only one thing I can do; ride about, and quarter thepampa, till I see something that'll set me back upon my road."

  In conformity with this intention, he once more puts his horse inmotion, and strikes off over the plain; but he does not go altogetherwithout a guide, the sun somewhat helping him. He knows that his way tothe Indian village is westward, and as the bright luminary is nowbeginning to descend, it points out that direction, so taking hisbearings by it, he rides on. Not far, however, before catching sight ofanother object, which enables him to steer his course with greaterprecision. This a tree, a grand vegetable giant of the species called_ombu_, known to every gaucho--beloved, almost held sacred by him, asaffording shade to his sun-exposed and solitary dwelling. The oneGaspar now sees has no house under its wide-spreading branches; but hehas himself been under them more than once while out on a hunt, andsmoked his _cigarrito_ in their shade. As his eye lights upon it, asatisfied expression comes over his features, for he knows that the treeis on the top of a little _loma_, or hill, about half-way between theestancia and the Indian town, and nearly in the direct route.

  He needs nothing more to guide him now; but instead of riding towardsthe tree, he rather turns his back upon it, and starts off in adifferent direction. This because he had already passed the _ombu_before coming across the ostrich.

  Soon again he is back upon the path from which he had strayed, andproceeds along it without further interruption, riding at a rapid paceto make up for the lost time.

  Still, he is far from being satisfied with himself. Although he mayhave done that which will be gratifying to his master, there is apossibility of its displeasing his mistress. Most certainly will it dothis, should he not find the missing ones, and have to go home withoutthem. But he has no great fear of that; indeed, is not even uneasy.Why should he be? He knows his master's proclivities, and believes thathe has come across some curious and rare specimens, which take time tocollect or examine, and this it is which has been retarding his return.Thus reflecting, he continues on, every moment expecting to meet them.But as there is neither road nor any regular path between the twoplaces, he needs to keep scanning the plain, lest on their return he maypass them unobserved.

  But he sees nothing of them till reaching the _tolderia_, and there onlythe hoof-marks of his master's horse, with those of his young mistress'spony, both conspicuous in the dust-covered ground by the doors of the_toldos_. But on neither does he dwell, for he, too, as were theothers, is greatly surprised to find the place deserted--indeed alarmed,and for a time sits in his saddle as one half-dazed.

  Only a short while, for he is not the man to give way to longirresolution, and recovering himself, he rides rapidly about, from_toldo_ to _toldo_, all over the town, at the same time shouting andcalling out his master's name.

  For answer, he only has the echoes of his own voice, now and then variedwith the howl of a wolf, which, prowling around like himself no doubtwonders, as he, at the place being abandoned.

  After a hurried examination of the houses, and seeing there is no onewithin them, just as Halberger had done, he strikes off on the trail ofthe departed inhabitants; and with the sun still high enough to light upevery track on it, he perceives those made by the _dueno's_ horse, andthe more diminutive hoof-prints alongside them.

  On he goes following them up, and in a gallop, for they are so fresh andclear he has no need to ride slowly. On in the same gait for a stretchof ten miles, which brings him to the tributary stream at thecrossing-place. He rides down to the water's edge, there to be sorelypuzzled at what he sees--some scores of other horse-tracks recentlymade, but turning hither and thither in crowded confusion.

  It calls for all his skill as a _rastrero_, with some considerable time,to unwind the tangled skein. But he at length succeeds, so far as todiscover that the whole horse troop, to whomsoever belonging, haverecrossed the ford; and crossing it himself, he sees they have gone backup the Pilcomayo river. Among them is one showing a shod hoof; but heknows that has not been made by his master's horse, the bar being largerand broader, with the claw more deeply indented. Besides, he sees notthe pony's tracks--though they are or were there--and have been troddenout by the ruck of the other animals trampling after.

  The gaucho here turns back; though he intends following the trailfurther, when he has made a more careful examination of the sign on theother side of the stream; and recrossing, he again sets to scrutinisingit. This soon leading him to the place where Halberger entered the_sumac_ grove. Now the gaucho, entering it also, and following the_slot_ along the _tapir_ path, at a distance of some three hundred yardsfrom the crossing, comes out into an open glade, lit up by the last raysof the setting sun, which fall slantingly through the trees standingaround. There a sight meets his eye, causing the blood at one moment torun cold through his veins, in the next hot as boiling lava; while fromhis lips issue exclamations of mingled astonishment and indignation.What he sees is a horse, saddled and with the bridle also on, standingwith neck bent down, and head drooped till the nostrils almost touch theearth. But between them and the ground is a figure extended at fullstretch; the body of a man to all appearance dead; which at a glance thegaucho knows to be that of his master!