CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.
UNDER THE CAROB TREES.
An attack by electric eels, however ludicrous the thing may seem, is notso looked upon by those whose ill luck it has been to experience it.That these slippery creatures possess a most dangerous power, and knowhow to exert it, there is ample evidence in the accounts given of themby many a truthful traveller.
More than enough of it have had our heroes; for while escaping withtheir lives, they have not got off altogether scatheless--neitherthemselves, nor their horses. For, though now beyond reach of theirmysterious assailants, the latter stand cowering and quivering,evidently disabled for that day, at least. To continue the journey uponthem, while they are in this condition, is plainly impossible. Buttheir riders do not think of it; they, too, feeling enfeebled--Ludwigactually ill. For the electricity still affects them all, and it may besome time before their veins will be freed from its influence.
_Nolens volens_, for a time they must stay where they are, however theymay chafe at this fresh halt--as before, a forced one. But the gaucho,with spirits ever buoyant, puts the best face upon it, saying, "Afterall, we won't lose so much time. By this, our horses would have beenpretty well done up, anyhow, after such a hard day's work, flounderingthrough so much mud and crossing so many streams. Even without thislittle bit of a bother, we'd have had to stop soon somewhere to restthem. And what better place than here? Besides, as you see, the sun'swearing well down, and it's only a question of three or four hours atmost. We can make that up by an earlier start, and a big day's journey,to-morrow; when it's to be hoped we'll meet with no such obstructions ashave beset us to-day."
Gaspar is not using arguments; for no one wishes to dispute with him.Only speaking words of comfort; more especially addressing them toCypriano, who is, as ever, the impatient one. But he, as the gauchohimself, sees the impossibility of proceeding further, till they andtheir animals have had a spell of rest.
For the purpose of obtaining this, they go in search of a suitablecamping-place; which they soon find within a grove of _algarobias_, atsome three or four hundred yards' distance from the ford. The treescover the sides of a little mound, or hillock; none growing upon itssummit, which is a grassy glade. And as the dust has either not settledon it, or been washed off by the rain, the herbage is clean and green,so too the foliage of the trees overshadowing it.
"The very place for a comfortable camp," says Gaspar, after inspectingit--the others agreeing with him to the echo.
Having returned to the ford for their horses, and led them up to thechosen ground, they are proceeding to strip the animals of theirrespective caparisons, when, lo! the _alparejas_, and other things,which were attached to the croup of Ludwig's saddle, and should still beon it, are not there! All are gone--shaken off, no doubt, while theanimal was plunging about in the stream--and with as little uncertaintynow lying amidst the mud at its bottom.
As in these very saddle-bags was carried their commissariat--_yerba,charqui_, maize-bread, onions, and everything, and as over thecantle-peak hung their kettle, skillet, _mates_ and _bombillas_, theloss is a lamentable one; in short, leaving them without a morsel toeat, or a vessel to cook with, had they comestibles ever so abundant!
At first they talk of going back to the ford, and making search for thelost chattels. But it ends only in talk; they have had enough of thatcrossing-place, so dangerously beset by those _demonios_, as Gaspar inhis anger dubs the electric eels. For though his courage is as that ofa lion, he does not desire to make further acquaintance with themysterious monsters. Besides, there is no knowing in what particularspot the things were dropped; this also deterring them from any attemptto enter upon a search. The stream at its crossing-place is quite ahundred yards in width, and by this time the articles of metal, as theheavily-weighted saddle-bags, will have settled down below the surface,perhaps trampled into its slimy bed by the horse himself in hisconvulsive struggles. To seek them now would be like looking for aneedle in a stack of straw. So the idea is abandoned; and for thisnight they must resign themselves to going supperless.
Fortunately, none of the three feels a-hungered; their dinner being asyet undigested. Besides, Gaspar is not without hope that something mayturn up to reprovision them, ere the sun goes down. Just possible, thesoldier-cranes may come back to the ford, and their fishing, so thatanother, with full crop, may fall within the loop of his _lazo_.
Having kindled a fire--not for cooking purposes, but to dry theirponchos, and other apparel saturated in the crossing of the stream--theyfirst spread everything out; hanging them on improvised clothes-horses,constructed of _cana brava_--a brake of which skirts the adjacentstream. Then, overcome with fatigue, and still suffering from theeffects of the animal electricity, they stretch themselves alongside thefire, trusting to time for their recovery.
Nor trust they in vain. For, sooner than expected, the volatile fluid--or whatever it may be--passes out of their veins, and their nervousstrength returns; even Ludwig saying he is himself again, though he isnot quite so yet.
And their animals also undergo a like rapid recovery, from browsing onthe leaves and bean-pods of the _algarobias_; a provender relished byall pampas horses, as horned cattle, and nourishing to both. More thanthis, the fruit of this valuable tree when ripe, is fit food for manhimself, and so used in several of the Argentine States.
This fact suggesting itself to Gaspar--as he lies watching the horsesplucking off the long siliques, and greedily devouring them--he says:--
"We can make a meal on the _algarobia_ beans, if nothing better's to behad. And for me, it wouldn't be the first time by scores. In someparts where I've travelled, they grind them like maize, and bake a veryfair sort of bread out of their meal."
"Why, Gaspar!" exclaims Ludwig, recalling some facts of which he hadheard his father speak, "you talk as if you had travelled in the HolyLand, and in New Testament times! These very trees, or others of asimilar genus, are the ones whose fruit was eaten by Saint John theBaptist. You remember that passage, where it is said: `his meat waslocusts and wild honey.' Some think the locusts he ate were the insectsof that name; and it may be so, since they are also eaten by Arabs, andcertain other tribes of Asiatic and African people. But, for my part, Ibelieve the beans of the `locust tree' are meant; which, like this, is aspecies of acacia that the Arabs call _carob_; evidently the root fromwhich we take our word _algarobia_."
Gaspar listens, both patiently and pleased, to this learneddissertation. For he is rejoiced to perceive, that the thoughts of hisyoung companion are beginning to find some abstraction andforgetfulness, of that upon which they have been so long sadly dwelling.Cypriano, too, appears to take an interest in the subject of discourse;and to encourage it the gaucho rejoins, in gleeful tones:
"Well, Senor Ludwig; I don't know much about those far-away countriesyou speak of, for I've not had any great deal of schooling. But I doknow, that _algarobia_ beans are not such bad eating; that is ifproperly prepared for it. In the States of Santiago and Tucuman, whichare the places I spoke of having travelled through, the people almostlive on them; rich and poor, man as well as beast. And we may be gladto make breakfast on them, if not supper; though I still trust somethingmore dainty may drop upon us. I'm not so hopeful as to expect manna,like that which rained down upon Moses; but there's many an eatablething to be had in this Chaco wilderness, too--for those who know how tolook for it. _Ay Dios_!" he adds, after a pause, with his eyes turnedtowards the ford, "those long-legged gentry don't seem to care aboutcoming back there. No doubt, the screams of that fellow I throttledhave frightened them off for good. So I suppose we must give the birdsup, for this night anyhow. Just possible, in the morning they'll be ashungry as ourselves, and pay their fishing-ground a very early visit."
Saying this, the gaucho relapses into silence, the others also ceasingto converse. They all feel a certain lethargy, which calls for repose;and for a while all three lie without speaking a word, their headsresting on their _recados_--the o
nly sound heard being the "crump-crump"of their horses' teeth grinding the _algarobia_ pods into pulp.