by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER FIVE.
A DESERTED VILLAGE.
Riding at a gentle amble, so that his daughter on her small palfrey mayeasily keep up with him, Halberger in due time arrives at the Indianvillage; to his surprise seeing it is no more a village, or only adeserted one! The toldos of bamboo and palm thatch are still standing,but untenanted--every one of them!
Dismounting, he steps inside them, one after the other, but finds eachand all unoccupied--neither man, woman, nor child within; nor without,either in the alleys between, or on the large open space around whichthe frail tenements are set, that has served as a loitering-place forthe older members of the tribe, and a play-ground for the younger.
The grand council room, called _malocca_, he also enters with likeresult; no one is inside it--not a soul to be seen anywhere, either inthe streets of the village or on the plain stretching around!
He is alarmed as much as surprised; indeed more, since he has beenanticipating something amiss. But by degrees, as he continues to makean examination of the place, his apprehensions became calmed down, thesehaving been for the fate of the Indians themselves. His first thoughthe had entertained while conjecturing the cause of their long absencefrom the _estancia_, was that some hostile tribe had attacked them,massacred the men, and carried captive the women and children. Suchtragical occurrences are far from uncommon among the red aborigines ofAmerica, Southern or Northern. Soon, however, his fears on this scoreare set at rest. Moving around, he detects no traces of a struggle,neither dead bodies nor blood. If there had been a fight the corpses ofthe fallen would surely still be there, strewing the plain; and not a_toldo_ would be standing or seen--instead, only their ashes.
As it is, he finds the houses all stripped of their furniture anddomestic utensils; these evidently borne off not as by marauders, buttaken away in a systematic manner, as when a regular move is made bythese nomadic people. He sees fragments of cut _sipos_ and bits ofraw-hide thong--the overplus left after packing.
Though no longer alarmed for the safety of the Indians, he is,nevertheless, still surprised and perplexed. What could have taken themaway from the _tolderia_, and whither can they have gone? Strange, too,Naraguana should have left the place in such unceremonious fashion,without giving him, Halberger, notice of his intention! Their absenceon this occasion cannot be accounted for by any hunting or foragingexpedition, nor can it be a foray of war. In any of these cases thewomen and children would have been left behind. Beyond doubt, it is anabsolute abandonment of the place; perhaps with no intention ofreturning to it; or not for a very long time.
Revolving these thoughts through his mind, Halberger climbs back intohis saddle, and sits further reflecting. His daughter, who has notdismounted, trots up to his side, she, too, in as much wonderment ashimself; for, although but a very young creature, almost a child in age,she has passed through experiences that impart the sageness of years.She knows of all the relationships which exist between them and theTovas tribe, and knows something of why her father fled from his oldhome; that is, she believes it to have been through fear of El Supremo,the "bogie" of every Paraguayan child, boy or girl. Aware of thefriendship of the Tovas chief, and the protection he has extended tothem, she now shares her father's surprise, as she had hisapprehensions.
They exchange thoughts on the subject--the child equally perplexed withthe parent; and after an interval passed in conjecturing, all to nopurpose, Halberger is about to turn and ride home again, when it occursto him he had better find out in what direction the Indians went awayfrom their village.
There is no difficulty in discovering this; the trail of their riddenhorses, still more that of their pack animals, is easily found andfollowed. It leads out from the village at the opposite end from thatby which they themselves entered; and after following it for a mile orso along the river's bank, they see that it takes an abrupt turn acrossthe _pampa_. Up to this point it has been quite conspicuous, and isalso beyond; for although it is anything but recent, no rain has sincefallen, and the hoof-prints of the horses can be here and theredistinguished clean cut on the smooth sward, over which the mounted menhad gone at a gallop. Besides, there is the broad belt of trodden grasswhere the pack animals toiled more slowly along; and upon this bits ofbroken utensils, with other useless articles, have been dropped andabandoned, plainly proclaiming the character of the cavalcade.
Here Halberger would halt, and turn back, but for a remembrance cominginto his mind which hinders, at the same time urging him to continue on.In one of his hunting excursions he had been over this ground before,and remembers that some ten miles further on a tributary stream flowsinto the Pilcomayo. Curious to know whether the departing Tovas haveturned up this tributary, or followed the course of the main river, hedetermines to proceed. For glancing skyward, he sees that the sun isjust crossing the meridian, and knows he will have no lack of timebefore darkness can overtake him. The circumstances and events, sostrange and startling, cause him to forget that promise made to hiswife--soon to be back at the _estancia_.
Spurring his horse, and calling on Francesca to follow, he starts offagain at a brisk gallop; which is kept up till they draw bridle on thebank of the influent stream.
This, though broad, is but shallow, with a selvedge of soft ooze oneither side; and on that where they have arrived the mud shows the trackof several hundred horses. Without crossing over, Halberger can seethat the Indian trail leads on along the main river, and not up thebranch stream.
Again he is on the balance, to go back--with the intention of returningnext day, accompanied by Caspar, and making further search for themissing Indians--when an object comes under his eye, causing him to givea start of surprise.
It is only the track of a horse; and strange that this should surprisehim, among hundreds. But the one on which he has fixed his attentiondiffers from all the rest in being the hoof-print of a _shod_ horse,while the others are as Nature made them. Still even this differencewould not make so much impression upon him were the tracks of the same_age_. Himself skilled as any Indian in the reading of _pampas_ sign,at a glance he sees they are not. The hoof-marks of the Tovas horses intheir travelling train are all quite three weeks old; while the animalhaving the iron on its heels, must have crossed over that stream withinthe week.
Its rider, whoever he was, could not have been in the company of thedeparting Tovas; and to him now regarding the tracks, it is only aquestion as to whether he were a _white_ man, or Indian. Everything isagainst his having been the former, travelling in a district tabooed tothe palefaces, other than Halberger and his--everything, save the factof his being on the back of a _shod_ horse; while this alone hinders thesupposition of the animal being bestridden by an Indian.
For a long while the hunter-naturalist, with Francesca by his side, sitsin his saddle contemplating the shod hoof-prints in a reverie ofreflection. He at length thinks of crossing the tributary stream, tosee if these continue on with the Indian trail, and has given his horsethe spur, with a word to his daughter to do likewise, when voices reachhis ear from the opposite side, warning him to pull in again. Alongwith loud words and ejaculations there is laughter; as of boys at play,only not stationary in one place, but apparently moving onward, anddrawing nearer to him.
On both sides of the branch stream, as also along the banks of theriver, is a dense growth of tropical vegetation--mostly underwood, withhere and there a tall _moriche_ palm towering above the humbler shrubs.Through this they who travel so gleefully are making their way; butcannot yet be seen from the spot where Halberger has halted. But juston the opposite bank, where the trail goes up from the ford, is a bit oftreeless sward, several acres in extent, in all likelihood, kept clearof undergrowth by the wild horses and other animals on their way to thewater to drink. It runs back like an embayment into the close-growingscrub, and as the trail can be distinguished debouching at its upperend, the naturalist has no doubt that these joyous gentry areapproaching in that direction.
And so are they--a sing
ular cavalcade, consisting of some thirtyindividuals on horseback; for all are mounted. Two are riding side byside, some little way ahead of the others, who follow also in twos--thetrail being sufficiently wide to admit of the double formation. For theIndians of _pampa_ and prairie--unlike their brethren of the forest, donot always travel "single file." On horseback it would string them outtoo far for either convenience or safety. Indeed, these horse Indiansnot unfrequently march in column, and in line.
With the exception of the pair spoken of as being in the advance, allthe others are costumed, and their horses caparisoned, nearly alike.Their dress is of the simplest and scantiest kind--a hip-cloth swathingtheir bodies from waist to mid-thigh, closely akin to the "breech-clout"of the Northern Indian, only of a different material. Instead ofdressed buckskin, the loin covering of the Chaco savage is a strip ofwhite cotton cloth, some of wool in bands of bright colour having a verypretty effect. But, unlike their red brethren of the North, they knownought of either leggings or moccasin. Their mild climate calls not forsuch covering; and for foot protection against stone, thorn, or thistle,the Chaco Indian rarely ever sets sole to the ground--his horse's backbeing his home habitually.
Those now making way through the wood show limbs naked from thigh totoe, smooth as moulded bronze, and proportioned as if cut by the chiselof Praxiteles. Their bodies above also nude; but here again differingfrom the red men of the prairies. No daub and disfigurement of chalk,charcoal, vermilion, or other garish pigment; but clear skins showingthe lustrous hue of health, of bronze or brown amber tint, adorned onlywith some stringlets of shell beads, or the seeds of a plant peculiar totheir country.
All are mounted on steeds of small size, but sinewy and perfect inshape, having long tails and flowing manes; for the barbarism of theclipping shears has not yet reached these barbarians of the Chaco.
Nor yet know they, or knowing, they use not saddle. A piece of ox-hide,or scrap of deer-skin serves them for its substitute; and for bridle araw-hide rope looped around the under jaw, without head-strap, bittless,and single reined, enabling them to check or guide their horses, as ifthese were controlled by the cruellest of curbs, or the jaw-breakingMameluke bitt.
As they file forth two by two into the open ground, it is seen thatthere is some quality and fashion common to all; to wit, that they areall youths--not any of them over twenty--and that they wear their haircropped in front, showing a square line across the forehead, but leftuntouched on the crown and back of the head. There it falls in fullprofuseness, reaching to the hips, and in the case of some mingling withthe tails, of their horses.
Two, however, are notably different from the rest; they riding in theadvance, with a horse's length or so of interval between them and theirfollowing. One of the two differs only in the style of his dress; beingan Indian as the others, and, like them, quite a youth, to allappearance the youngest of the party. Yet also their chief, by reasonof his richer and grander dress; his attire being of the mostpicturesque and costly kind worn by the Chaco savages. Covering hisbody, from the breast to half-way down his thighs, is a sort ofloosely-fitting tunic of white cotton stuff. Sleeveless, it leaves hisarm bare from nigh the shoulder to the wrist, around which glistens abracelet with the sheen of solid gold. His limbs also are bare, save asort of gartering below the knee, of shell and bead embroidery. On hishead is a fillet band ornamented in like manner, with bright plumes, setvertically around it--the tail-feathers of the _guacamaya_, one of themost superb of South American parrots. But the most distinctive articleof his apparel is his _manta_, a sort of cloak of the _poncho_ kind,hanging loosely behind his back, but altogether different from thewell-known garment of the gauchos, which is usually woven from wool.That on the shoulders of the young Indian is of no textile fabric, butthe skin of a fawn, tanned and bleached to the softness and whiteness ofa dress kid glove, the outward side being elaborately feather-worked inflowers and patterns, the feathers obtained from many a bird of gayplumage.
Of form perfectly symmetrical, the young Indian, save for hiscomplexion, would seem a sort of Apollo, or Hyperion on horseback; whilehe who rides alongside him, withal that his skin is white, or once was,might well be likened to the Satyr. A man over thirty years of age,tall, and of tough, sinewy frame, with a countenance of the mostsinister cast, dressed gaucho fashion, with the wide petticoat breecheslying loose about his limbs, a striped _poncho_ over his shoulders, anda gaudy silken kerchief tied turban-like around his temples. But nogaucho he, nor individual of any honest calling: instead, a criminal ofdeepest dye, experienced in every sort of villainy. For this man isRufino Valdez, well-known in Assuncion as one of Francia's familiars,and more than suspected of being one of his most dexterous _assassins_.