by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER XVII.
RESCUED.
In spite of their utmost efforts Mr. Hardy's party had made slowerprogress than they had anticipated. Many of the horses had brokendown under fatigue; and as they had no spare horses to replace themas the Indians had in like case done from those they had driven offfrom Mr. Mercer, they were forced to travel far more slowly than atfirst. They gained upon the Indians, however, as they could tell bythe position of the camping ground for the night.
At three o'clock on the afternoon of the last day they passed theplace their enemy had left that morning; but although they kept onuntil long after sunset, many of them having led their horses allday, they were still more than thirty miles away from the mountainsamong which they knew that the Indian village was situated.
None of the Gauchos had ever been there, but they knew itssituation and general features by report. There had been nodifficulty in following the trail since they had struck it. Thebroad line of trodden ground and the frequent carcasses of sheepsufficiently told the tale.
That was a night of terrible anxiety to all. They knew that alreadyEthel was in the Indian village, and they thought with a sickeningdread of what might happen the next day. Nothing, however, could bedone. Many of the party were already exhausted by their long day'swalk under a burning sun. It was altogether impossible to reach thevillage that night.
Before lying down for the night, Mr. Hardy asked all the party tojoin in a prayer for the preservation of his daughter during thefollowing day; and it was a strange and impressing sight to see thegroup of sunburned, travel-worn men standing uncovered while theirleader offered up an earnest prayer.
Mr. Hardy then said for that night it was unnecessary to keep watchas usual. The Indians had pushed on and could no longer dreadpursuit, and therefore there was no risk of a night attack. Besideswhich, there was little chance of his sleeping. This propositionwas a most acceptable one, and in a very short time a perfectsilence reigned in the camp.
Before daybreak they were again on the march, all on foot andleading their horses, in order to spare them as much as possibleshould they be required at night. Speed was now no object. It was,they knew, hopeless to attack in broad daylight, as the Indianswould be probably more than a match for them, and Ethel's lifewould be inevitably sacrificed. They walked, therefore, untilwithin six or seven miles of the gorge, nearer than which theydared not go, lest they might be seen by any straggling Indian.
Their halting-place was determined by finding a stream with anabundance of fresh grass on its banks. They dared not light a fire,but chewed some of the tough charqui, and watched the distant cleftin the hill which led to the ardently wished-for goal.
As evening fell they were all in the saddle, and were pleased tofind that the horses were decidedly fresher for their rest. Theydid not draw rein until the ground became stony, and they knew thatthey must be at the mouth of the gorge. Then they dismounted andpicketed the horses. Two of the Gauchos were stationed with them asguards, and the rest went stealthily forward--the rockets beinginterested to the care of Terence, who fastened them tightlytogether with a cord, and then hung them by a loop, like a gun,over his shoulder, in order that he might have his hands free.
It was still only eight o'clock--dangerously early for a surprise;but the whole party were quite agreed to risk everything, as no onecould say in what position Ethel might be placed, and whatdifference an hour might make. Their plan was to steal quietly upto the first hut they found, to gag its inmates, and compel one ofthem, under a threat of instant death, to guide them to the hut inwhich Ethel was placed.
Suddenly Mr. Hardy was startled by a dark figure rising from a rockagainst which he had almost stumbled, with the words: "White mangood. Tawaina friend. Come to take him to child."
Then followed a few hurried questions; and no words can express thedelight and gratitude of Mr. Hardy and his sons, and the intensesatisfaction of the others, on finding that Ethel was alive and forthe present free from danger.
It was agreed to wait now for two hours, to give time for theIndians to retire to rest; and while they waited the Raven toldthem all that had happened up to the arrival at the village,passing over the last day's proceedings by saying briefly thatEthel had run a great risk of being put to death, but that a delayhad been obtained by her friends. Having told his story, he said,"Tawaina friend to great white chief. Gave signal with arrow; savelittle White Bird to-day. But Tawaina Indian--not like see Indiankilled. White chief promise not kill Indian women and children?"
Mr. Hardy assured the Indian that they had no thought of killingwomen and children.
"If can take little White Bird without waking village, not killmen?" Tawaina asked again.
"We do not want to wake the village if we can help it, Tawaina; butI do not see any chance of escaping without a fight. Our horses areall dead beat, and the Indians will easily overtake us, even if weget a night's start."
"Mustn't go out on plain," the Raven said earnestly. "If go out onplain, all killed. Indian two hundred and fifty braves--eat upwhite men on plain."
"I am afraid that is true enough, Tawaina, though we shall provevery tough morsels. Still we should fight at a fearful disadvantagein the open. But what are we to do?"
"Come back to mouth of canyon--hold that; can keep Indians off aslong as like. Indians have to make peace."
"Capital!" Mr. Hardy said delightedly; for he had reviewed theposition with great apprehension, as he had not seen how it wouldbe possible to make good their retreat on their tired horses in theteeth of the Indians. "The very thing! As you say, we can hold thegorge for a month if necessary, and sooner or later they will besick of it, and agree to let us retreat in quiet. Besides, a week'srest would set our horses up again, and then we could make ourretreat in spite of them."
"One more thing," the Raven said. "When great chief got littleWhite Bird safe, Tawaina go away--not fight one way, not fightother way. When meet again, white chief not talk about to-night.Not great Indian know Tawaina white chief's friend."
"You can rely upon us all, Tawaina. They shall never learn from usof your share in this affair. And now I think that it is time forus to be moving forward. It will be past ten o'clock before we arethere."
Very quietly the troop crept along, Tawaina leading the way, untilhe approached closely to the village. Here they halted for amoment.
"Only six of us will go in," Mr. Hardy said; "there will be lesschance of detection--Jamieson, Percy, Herries, my boys, and myself.The others take post close to the hut we see ahead. If you findthat we are discovered, be in readiness to support us. And,Farquhar, two or three of you get matches ready, and stick a bluelight into the straw roof of the hut. We must have light, or welose all the advantage of our firearms. Besides, as we retreat weshall be in darkness, while they will be in the glare."
Thus speaking, Mr. Hardy followed his guide, the men he hadselected treading cautiously in his rear. Presently they stoppedbefore one of the huts, and pointing to the door, Tawaina said,"Little White Bird there;" and then gliding away, he was lost inthe darkness.
Mr. Hardy cautiously pushed aside the skin and entered, followed byhis friends. It was perfectly dark, and they stood for a momentuncertain what to do. Then they heard a low voice saying, "Papa, isthat you?" while at the same instant they saw a gleam of light inthe other corner of the tent, and heard a rustling noise, and theyknew that an Indian had cut a slit in the hide walls and hadescaped; and as Mr. Hardy pressed his child to his heart, aterrific war-whoop rose on the air behind the hut.
"Come," Mr. Hardy said, "keep together, and make a run of it."
Ethel had lain down without taking off even her shoes, so stronghad been her hope of her father's arrival. She was therefore noimpediment to the speed of their retreat. For a short distance theywere unopposed. The Indians, indeed, rushed from their huts likeswarms of bees disturbed by an intruder. Ignorant of the nature ofthe danger, and unable to see its cause, all was for a minute wildconfusion; and then guided by the war-wh
oop of the Indian who hadgiven the alarm, all hurried toward the spot, and as they did so,several saw the little party of whites. Loud whoops gave theintimation of this discovery and a rush toward them was made.
"Now, your revolvers," Mr. Hardy said. "We are nearly out of thevillage."
Not as yet, however, were the Indians gathered thickly enough tostop them. A few who attempted to throw themselves in the way wereinstantly shot down, and in less time than it has occupied to readthis description they reached the end of the village. As they didso a bright flame shot up from the furthest hut, and the rest ofthe party rushed out and joined them. The Indians in pursuit pausedat seeing this fresh accession of strength to their enemies, andthen, as they were joined by large numbers, and the flame shootingup brightly enabled them to see how small was the body of whites,they rushed forward again with fierce yells.
But the whites were by this time a hundred and fifty yards away,and were already disappearing in the gloom.
"Stop!" Mr. Hardy cried. "Steady with your rifles! Each man singleout an Indian. Fire!"
A yell of rage broke from the Indians as fourteen or fifteen oftheir number fell, and a momentary pause took place again. Andthen, as they were again reinforced, they continued the pursuit.
But the two hundred yards which the whites had gained was a longstart in the half a mile's distance to be traversed, and the whiteswell knew that they were running for their lives; for oncesurrounded in the plain, their case was hopeless.
Well was it, then, that Ethel was so accustomed to an out-of-doorlife. Hope and fear lent speed to her feet, and running between herfather and brothers, she was able to keep up a speed equal to theirown.
Scarce a word was spoken, as with clinched teeth and beating heartsthey dashed along. Only once Mr. Jamieson said, "Can Ethel keepup?" and she gasped out "Yes."
The whites had this great advantage in the race, that they knewthat they had only half a mile in all to run, and therefore put outtheir best speed; whereas, although a few of the Indians saw theimportance of overtaking the fugitives on the plain, the greaterportion believed that their prey was safe in their hands, and madeno great effort to close with them at once. The whites, too, hadthe advantage of being accustomed to walking exercise, whereas theIndians, almost living on horseback, are seldom in the habit ofusing their feet. Consequently the whites reached the narrow mouthof the gorge a full hundred and fifty yards ahead of the main bodyof the pursuers, although a party of their fastest runners was notmore than half that distance in their rear.
There was a general ejaculation of thankfulness as the parties nowhalted and turned to face the enemy.
It was now that the full advantage of Mr. Hardy's precaution offiring the Indian hut had become manifest.
The fire had communicated to the next two or three dwellings, and abroad flame rose up, against the glare of which the Indians stoodout distinctly, while the whites were posted in deep gloom.
"Now, boys," Mr. Hardy said, "pick off the first lot with yourcarbines, while we load our rifles. Ethel, get behind that rock.Take shelter all till the last moment. The arrows will soon beamong us."
Steadily as if firing at a mark the boys discharged their fiveshots each; and as the enemy was not more than fifty yards off,every shot told.
The rest of the leading band hesitated, and throwing themselvesdown, waited until the others came up. There was a momentary pause,then a volley of arrows and musket halls was discharged in thedirection of their hidden foe, and then, with a wild yell, thewhole mass charged.
Not till they were within thirty yards was there a return shotfired; but as they entered the narrow gorge, the whites leaped totheir feet with a cheer, and poured in a volley from twenty-fourrifles.
The effect was terrible; and those in front who were unwoundedhesitated, but, pressed on from behind, they again rushed forward.Then, as they closed, a desperate combat began.
The boys had hastily handed their carbines to Ethel to fit in thespare chamber, and had taken their place by their father's side.The gorge was so narrow that there was not room to stand abreast,and by previous arrangement those who had no revolvers placedthemselves in front, clubbing their rifles, while those withrevolvers fired between them.
Mr. Percy, one of the Jamiesons, and Herries stood a pace or two inthe rear, with their revolvers in hand, as a reserve.
For a few minutes the contest was terrific. The rush of the Indianspartially broke the line, and the whirl of gleaming hatchets, theheavy crash of the blows with the rifles, the sharp incessantcracks of the revolvers, the yells of the Indians, the short shoutsof encouragement from the English, and the occasional Irish cry ofTerence, made up a total of confusion and noise which wasbewildering.
Scarce a shot of the whites was thrown away, and a heap of dead layacross the pass.
Still the Indians pressed on.
The fight was more silent now, the cracks of the revolvers hadceased, and the whites were fighting silently and desperately withtheir rifles. They had not given way a foot, but the short pantingbreath told that the tremendous exertion was telling, as they stoodin a line at short intervals, and their weapons rose and fell witha force and might that the Indian hatchets could seldom stem oravert.
Not bloodless on their part had the fight been up to this time.Most of them had received gashes more or less severe, and Martinezthe Gaucho and Cook lay dead at their feet.
Charley and Hubert, upon emptying their revolvers, had fallen backand taken their carbines, and now stood with the reserve upon aflat rock a few paces in the rear, all burning with impatience totake part in the strife.
At this moment they were joined by the two Gauchos who had beenleft with the horses, but who now, hearing the firing, had arrivedto take part in the fray.
At last Mr. Hardy judged that the time had come, and shouted:
"Take aim into the middle of the mass, and fire as quick as youcan, then all charge together. Now!"
In less than half a minute the four barrels of the Gauchos' guns,and the thirty shots from the revolvers, had been discharged intothe densely packed throng; then the seven men leaped from the rock,and with a cheer the whites threw themselves upon the Indians,already recoiling and panic-struck by the tremendous and deadlyfire.
The Indians in front, surprised and confused, were mown down by thelong rifles like grass before the mower, and those behind, afterone moment's hesitation, broke and fled; in another two minutes thefight was over, and the Indians in full flight to their village.After a few words of hearty congratulation the whites threwthemselves on the ground, panting and exhausted, after theirtremendous exertions.
Their first care, upon recovering a little, was to load theirrevolvers; as for the rifles, there was not one, with the exceptionof those of the three men who had formed the reserve, and the boys'carbines, which were not disabled. The stocks were broken, thehammers wrenched off, and the barrels twisted and bent.
The party now crowded round Ethel, with whom not a single word hadyet been exchanged since her rescue, and warm and hearty were thecongratulations and welcome bestowed upon her. There was then anexamination of wounds.
These had been many, and in some cases severe. Mr. Farquhar wascompletely disabled by a deep wound in the shoulder. Mr. Percy hadreceived a fearful gash on the arm. Charley had one ear nearly cutoff, and the side of his face laid completely open with a sweepingblow. Four others were seriously wounded, and six had lessimportant wounds. All, however, were too much elated with theirsuccess to make anything but light of their hurts.
"You seem fated to have your beauty spoiled, Charley," Mr. Hardysaid, as he bandaged up his son's face. "A few more fights, and youwill be as seasoned with scars as any Chelsea pensioner."
Charley joined in the general laugh at his own expense.
"Yes, papa, if I go on like this, I shall certainly get rid of mylooking-glass."
"You have not lost the rockets, I hope, Terence?" Mr. Hardy asked.
"Sure and I've not, your honor. I put them down be
hind a big rockbefore the little shindy began."
"We will fire them off," Mr. Hardy said. "They will heighten theimpression, and make the Indians more anxious to come to terms,when they see that we can reach their village. We will not let themoff all at once; but as we have four of each sort, we will send offa pair every half hour or so, as they may think, if we fire themall at once and then stop, that we have no more left. We may aswell give them a few shots, too, with our carbines and the riflesthat remain serviceable. They will carry as far as half a mile ifwe give them elevation enough, and it is well to impress them asmuch as possible."
Mr. Hardy's suggestion was carried out. The first signal rocketshowed the village crowded with Indians, over whose heads thecracked rocket slowly whizzed. The light of the next rocket did notdisclose a single person, and it was apparent that the place wasdeserted. The third rocket happened to strike one of the roofs, andexploding there, set the thatch on fire.
"Good!" Mr. Percy said. "We shall have them asking for termsto-morrow."
Four of the unwounded men were now placed as a guard at the mouthof the gorge, the others retiring further into it, so as to bebeyond the dead Indians, who lay there literally in piles.
The morning broke over the white men occupied in the burial oftheir two fallen companions, and upon the Indians assembled at ashort distance beyond the village. The men sat upon the ground insullen despair; the women wailed and wrung their hands.
Now that it was day, they could see how terrible had been theirloss. Upward of sixty of their number were missing. The Stag hadfallen, as had several of the most valiant braves of the tribe.
Presently the Raven rose from the midst of the warriors. Hisabsence the preceding evening had not been noticed; and althoughall knew that he had taken no part in the fight, this wasconsidered natural enough, when his advice to give up the captivehad been rejected.
"My brothers," he began, "the Great Spirit is very angry. He hashidden his face from his children. Yesterday he blinded their eyesand made them foolish; last night he made them as water before thewhite men. Why were the ears of the chiefs closed to the words ofthe Raven? If the Raven had set out with the little White Bird, thegreat white chief would have been glad, and the hatchet would havebeen buried in peace. But the chiefs would not hear the words ofthe Raven. The Stag said, Kill! and the war chiefs shouted, Kill!and where are they now? Their wigwams are empty, and their womenhave none to bring in the deer for food. The Great Spirit isangry."
The Raven then took his seat; but, as he anticipated, no one roseto speak after him. The depression was too general; and the factthat, had the Raven's advice been followed, the evils would havebeen avoided, was too manifest for any one to attempt to utter aword.
After a profound silence of some minutes' duration, the Raven againrose.
"What will my brothers do? The flying fires will burn down ourvillage, and there is no retreat. The guns that shoot withoutloading carry very far. We are as water before them. We are in thehands of the white chief, and our bones will feed the crows. Whatwill my brothers do?"
There was still a profound silence, and then he continued: "TheRaven is a great chief, and he will tell them what to do. The Ravenhas stood by the side of the little White Bird, and the great whitechief will listen to his voice. He will say, Let there be peacebetween us. The men who would have harmed the Little White Bird aredead; there is no more cause of quarrel. Let us bury the hatchet.Take horses and cattle for your journey, and forgive us if we havedone wrong. If the white men were on the plains, the Raven wouldsay, Let my young men charge; but they hold the pass, and the gunsthat shoot without loading are too strong. Have I spoken well?"
There was a low murmur of applause. The feeling that the positionof the white men was impregnable was general; and they all feltconvinced that those terrible enemies would devise some unknownscheme which would end in the total annihilation of the tribe.
The Raven's proposition was therefore unanimously assented to.
The Raven then laid aside his arms, and attended by six of theprincipal chiefs, carrying green boughs in token of amity, advancedtoward the mouth of the gorge. Mr. Hardy, with five of the whites,and with Perez to interpret, advanced to meet him.
When the two groups met the Raven commenced gravely, in the Indianlanguage: "The white chief of the flying fire is mighty, and theGreat Spirit has blinded his children. They carried off the littleWhite Bird, but they did not harm her. Bad men would have harmedher, but the Raven stood by her side. The great white chief has takenback his little White Bird, and he has killed the men whomthe Great Spirit blinded. Why should there be any more war? TheIndians are brave; they have cattle, and sheep, and water. They canlive out of reach of the white chief's guns, and can fight if thewhite chief comes out against them. The white chief is strong, andhe can defend the pass, but he cannot venture out to attack. Theyare equal. There is no cause of quarrel any longer. Let us bury thehatchet. The white chief's young men can take horses--for theIndians have many--to take them back to their homes. They can takecattle to eat. Let there be peace."
This address of the Raven was a very politic one. He already knewthat Mr. Hardy was willing to grant terms, but he wished to showthe other chiefs that he supported the honor of the tribe byboasting of their power and resources, and by making the peace asupon equal terms.
When the Gaucho had translated their proposal, Mr. Hardy spoke,using the phraseology which would be most intelligible to theIndians.
"The Raven is a great chief; he has spoken wisely. The little WhiteBird has sung in the white chief's ear that the Raven stood by herside when bad Indians would have hurt her. The bad Indians aredead. The Great Spirit frowned upon them. The white chief has noquarrel with the Raven and his friends. Let there be peace."
A general expression of satisfaction pervaded both parties when itwas known that peace was arranged; and one of each side hurryingback with the news, the rest went into the village, where, sittingdown before the principal hut, the pipe of peace was solemnlysmoked.
The two parties then mingled amicably, mutually pleased at thetermination to the hostilities; and no one would have guessed thata few hours before they had met in deadly strife. The Ravencourteously invited the whites to stop for a night at the village;but the invitation was declined, as all were very anxious to returnhome.
Some Indians were dispatched by the Raven, who had now naturallyassumed the position of chief of the tribe, to catch horses to takethe place of those which had broken down upon the journey. Theoffer of cattle was declined, as they were confident that theyshould be able to procure game. They took, however, as large asupply of fresh meat as their horses could carry.
Mr. Hardy saw that the Raven wished to avoid any privateconversation with him. He therefore drew the boys aside, and made aproposal to them, to which they cordially agreed.
As the horses were brought up, and the whole tribe assembled, headvanced toward the Raven with one of the boys' carbines in hishand.
"The Raven is a great chief," he said. "He has a great heart, andstood by the side of the little White Bird. But he has not a goodrifle. The white chief gives him a rifle which will shoot manytimes. Let him promise that he will never use it in fight againstthe white men."
This gift the Raven received with great pleasure, and readily gavethe required promise, adding, on behalf of his tribe, that thehatchet which was buried should never again be dug up against thewhites. An extra chamber and all the spare ammunition was given tohim, and a further supply promised when he chose to send for it;instructions were also given to him in the use of the weapon, thena solemn farewell was exchanged, and the party of whites turnedtheir faces toward home.
CHAPTER XVIII.
AND LAST.
With this memorable conflict, and the lesson taught to the Indians,that even in the heart of their own country they could not considerthemselves secure from retaliations and from the vengeance of thewhite settlers, the Indian troubles of the Hardys were over.Occasionally, indeed, raids
were made upon the outlyingsettlements, and the young Hardys were summoned to beat off theirsavage foes. Upon the estate of Mount Pleasant, however, hostilefoot was not again placed. Occasionally the Raven, with two orthree of his braves, would pay a visit for a day or two, and departwith presents of blankets, and such things as his tribe needed.Upon the first of these visits Hubert questioned him respecting thebird whose remarkable feather had been the means of saving Ethel'slife. At his next visit the chief brought two very perfect skins ofthe bird. It turned out, to Hubert's great delight, to be a newspecies; and one of them is now, with many other hitherto 'unknownbirds which had fallen to his gun, in the British Museum, with thespecific names of Hardiensis, in compliment to their discoverer.The Raven's tribe honorably performed their agreement with Mr.Hardy, and never joined in any subsequent attacks upon the whites.Being much weakened by the loss of so many of their fighting men,they would probably have been exterminated by hostile tribes; butMr. Hardy subsequently furnished them with a supply of militarymuskets, which he had bought chiefly for the purpose, together withammunition, and they were then able to oppose a resolute front totheir enemies, and to support themselves by hunting. The Raven isnow one of the most powerful and respected chiefs upon the plainsof the pampas.
The return of the expedition, after the rescue of Ethel and thechastisement of the Indians in the heart of their own country,caused quite a sensation throughout the Republic. Of Mrs. Hardy'sand Maud's joy we need not speak, but the adventure was considereda matter of congratulation and joy throughout the whole district.It was felt that a signal blow had been struck to the Indians, andthat for a long time life and property would be secure. There was,in consequence, quite a rush to the neighborhood and land was takenup and occupied in all directions.
It was well for Mrs. Hardy and the girls that they were to sail bythe next mail for England. The effect of those terrible four daysupon Ethel, and of that week of anxiety upon her mother and sister,had so shaken them that the change, even if it had not beenpreviously determined upon, would have been imperatively necessary.It is not too much to say that Mrs. Hardy and Maud had sufferedeven more than Ethel. She at least had known and seen her danger,and was sustained, except during that morning when she was fastenedto the stake, with a strong hope and belief of rescue. Those leftbehind could do nothing but picture up scenes of horror, and passtheir time in alternately praying and weeping. They were all sadlyshaken and nervous during the short time that remained for them atMount Pleasant; but the sea voyage and the fresh breezes soonbrought health and color into their cheeks, and none of them everafter felt any bad effects from that terrible week.
And now our story is drawing to a close. The stormy period of theMount Pleasant settlement was over. The hard work, the difficultiesand dangers of the life of a new settler on the extreme edge ofcivilization, had been passed, and nothing remained but to continueto devote attention and energy to the estate, and to reap thefruits of the labor.
For two years after the departure of his wife and daughters Mr.Hardy remained at his post. It was now nearly six years since hehad left England, and he longed to return to it. He felt that hecould do so without any uneasiness as to the future. Rosario was,according to his anticipation, rising into a large and importanttown; the country was fairly settled for leagues beyond the estate;land was rapidly rising in value; and there was now no fearwhatever of Indian attacks. His flocks and herds had multipliedgreatly, and were doubling every two years. The income obtained bythe sale of cattle fatted on the alfalfa, and upon the sale of wooland other farm produce, was considerable. The dairy alone broughtin a large yearly amount. Charley was now twenty-two, Hubert a yearyounger; both were as capable of managing the estate as he washimself.
He one day, therefore, unfolded his plans to them. "As you know,boys, I am going to England shortly; and although I shall perhapsnow and then come over here, I shall make England my permanenthome. You boys will therefore jointly manage the estate. The incomethis year will reach six thousand dollars, and would be much moredid we not keep the greater portion of our animals to increase ourstock. I have now twelve thousand five hundred dollars in the bank.After the busy life I have led here, I could not remain inactive.My present intention is to take a large farm upon a long lease withthe option of purchase. My object will be to obtain a lease uponlarge acreage and poor land, but improvable with irrigation ordrainage and an outlay of capital. I shall risk no more than twelvethousand five hundred dollars in this, and also the income I drawfrom here for the next two years. The profits will increase eachyear. I shall therefore in two years have sunk twenty-five thousanddollars in the farm--a portion being devoted to building a suitablehouse. You will, of course, during the two years spend whatevermoney you may require; but, in fact, it is impossible for you tospend much money here. At the end of two years I propose that firstyou, Charley, as the elder, shall come home to England for a year,and then that Hubert shall take his turn. You will then stay a yearhere together, and again have each a year in England, and so onregularly. From the end of this two years I shall draw half theincome of this estate, and you will take the other half betweenyou, to invest or use as you may think fit. At the end of six yearsI calculate that the estate will be stocked with as many cattle andsheep as it can support. Fifteen thousand cattle, say, and thirtythousand sheep. You will then sell all your annual increase, andthe profits will be greater every year. At the end of ten yearsfrom this time, if, as I think probable, you will have had enoughof this life, we will sell the estate. By that time it will be thecenter of a populous district, the land will be greatly increasedin value, and will be equal to any in the country--so much so,indeed, that it will probably be out of the question to find apurchaser for the whole. We could therefore break it up to suitpurchasers, dividing it into lots of one, two, three, or foursquare miles, or a square league, and dividing the stock inproportion. The house would, of course, go with the arable land anda mile or two of pasture beyond it. My share of the yearly income Ishall devote to buying my estate. Say the price is fifty thousanddollars. This I shall, with my income from here and my income fromthe estate itself, probably be able to make in ten years. Theestate, with the twenty-five thousand dollars I propose to risk indrainage, etc., ought then to be worth one hundred thousanddollars. The value of this estate of fifty thousand acres, with theflocks and herds, ought to be at least double that amount; so thatat the end of ten years I shall be a rich man. You, with care, cancertainly save twenty-five thousand dollars each in the ten years,and will receive another fifty thousand dollars each as your shareof the estate. You will consequently, boys, at the age ofthirty-one and thirty-two, be able to settle down in England invery comfortable circumstances. Your sisters will of course beprovided for out of my share. Do you approve of my plans?"
The boys warmly expressed their satisfaction at the plan, and theirgratitude to their father for his intentions.
And so things were carried out.
Six months after Mr. Hardy's arrival in England, the boys heard ofMaud's marriage to Mr. Cooper, now, by the death of his father, awealthy country gentleman. Charley, during his first visit toEngland, also married--an example which Hubert followed the nextyear.
The two now took it by turn to manage the estate--the one inEngland always passing a considerable portion of his time at Mr.Hardy's, and spending the rest in traveling.
Ethel was married the year after Hubert to a rising barrister inLondon.
Everything prospered at Mount Pleasant, and at the sale it wasbroken up into lots and fetched rather a larger sum than Mr. Hardyhad calculated.
Mr. Hardy's own plan had been fully carried out, but by the end ofthe ten years he began to wish for a quiet town life. He thereforemade an arrangement with Charley, whereby the latter, who hadobtained some money with his wife, has taken his place as master ofthe estate, and has settled down into the life of a countrygentleman, which exactly suits him.
Hubert lives in London. His income is sufficient for his wants, hehas become a member
of a number of scientific societies, and hiscollection of the fauna of the pampas of America is considered tobe unequaled.
The girls are very happy with the men of their choice; and Mr. andMrs. Hardy have always some of their children or grandchildrenstaying with them, and often amuse the young ones with tales of howtheir fathers or mothers fought the Indians on the pampas of SouthAmerica.
THE END.