Gaspar the Gaucho: A Story of the Gran Chaco

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Gaspar the Gaucho: A Story of the Gran Chaco Page 9

by Mayne Reid


  CHAPTER NINE.

  A RED-HANDED RUFFIAN.

  Just as the young cacique has yielded to the tempter, surrendering hislast scruple of conscience, his horse dips hoof in the stream, that ofthe Paraguayan plunging into it at the same time. Knowing the fordwell, and that it is shallow, with a firm bottom, they ride boldly on;their followers straggled out behind, these innocent of the foulconspiracy being hatched so near; still keeping up their rollicky mirth,and flinging about _jeux d'esprit_ as the spray drops are tossed fromthe fetlocks of their wading horses.

  It is a popular though erroneous belief, that the red men of America areof austere and taciturn habit. The older ones may be at times, but eventhese not always. Instead, as a rule they are given to jocularity andfun; the youth brimful of it as the street boys of any European city.At least one half of their diurnal hours is spent by them in play andpastimes; for from those of the north we have borrowed both Polo and LaCrosse; while horse-racing is as much their sport as ours; and archerymore.

  Not strange, then, that the _jeunesse doree_ of the Tovas, escortingtheir youthful cacique, and seeing him occupied with the paleface whohas been on a visit to their town, take no heed of what passes betweenthese two, but abandon themselves to merriment along the march. No moreis it strange that Aguara, engrossed with the subject of conversationbetween him and the _vaqueano_, leaves them free to their frollicking.

  Nothing occurs to change the behaviour either of the two who are infront, or those following, until the horses of the former have fordedthe stream, and stepped out on the bank beyond. Then the Paraguayan, assaid, a skilled tracker and cunning as a fox, chancing to lower his eyesto the ground, observes upon it several hoof-marks of a horse. These atonce fix his attention; for not only are they fresh--to all appearancemade but the moment before--but the horse that made them must have been_shod_.

  While in the act of verifying this observation, other hoof-prints comeunder his eye, also shod, but much smaller, being the tracks of a pony.Recent too, evidently made at the same time as the horse's. He has noneed to point them out to the young Indian, who, trained to such craftfrom infancy upward, has noted them soon as he, and with equally quickintuitiveness is endeavouring to interpret their significance.

  Succeeding in this: for both the horse's track and that of the pony areknown to, and almost instantly recognised by him. He has not lived twoyears in proximity to the estancia of Ludwig Halberger, all the while infriendly intercourse with the naturalist and his family, without takingnote of everything; and can tell the particular track of every horse inits stables. Above all is he familiar with the diminutive hoof-marks ofFrancesca's pretty pony, which he has more than once trailed across the_campo_, in the hope of having a word with its rider. Perceiving themnow, and so recently made, he gives out an ejaculation of pleasedsurprise; then looks around, as though expecting to see the pony itself,with its young mistress upon its back. There is no one in sight,however, save the _vaqueano_ and his own followers; the latter behind,halted by command, some of them still in the water, so that they may notride over the shod-tracks, and obliterate them.

  All this while Halberger and his child are within twenty paces of thespot, and seated in their saddles, as when they first drew up side byside. Screened by the trees, they see the Indians, themselvesunobserved, while they can distinctly hear every word said. Only two ofthe party speak aloud, the young cacique and his paleface companion;their speech, of course, relating to the newly-discovered "sign."

  After dismounting, and for a few seconds examining it, Valdez leaps backinto his saddle with a show of haste, as if he would at once start offupon the trail of horse and pony.

  "There have been only the two here--that's plain," he says. "Father anddaughter, you think? What a pity we didn't get up in time to bid`good-day' to them! 'Twould have simplified matters much. You'd thenhave had your young chick to carry to the cage you intend for it,without the mother bird to make any bother or fluttering in your face;while I might have executed my commission sooner than expected."

  "_Carramba_!" he continues after a short while spent in considering."They can't have gone very far as yet. You say it's quite twenty milesto the place where the _gringo_ has his headquarters. If so, andthey've not been in a great hurry to get home--which like enough thegirl would, since her dear Cypriano don't appear to be along--we maycome up with them by putting on speed. Let us after them at once! Whatsay you?"

  The young Indian, passive in the hands of the older and more hardenedsinner, makes neither objection nor protest. Instead, stung by theallusion to "dear Cypriano," he is anxious as the other to come up withthe pony and its rider. So, without another word, he springs back uponhis horse, declaring his readiness to ride on.

  With eyes directed downward, they keep along the return tracks; havingalready observed that these come no farther than the ford, and turn backby the water's edge--

  "Aha!" exclaims the _vaqueano_, pulling up again ere he has proceededthree lengths of his horse; "they've left the trail here, and turned offup stream! That wouldn't be their route home, would it?"

  "No," answers Aguara. "Their nearest way's along the river, down as faras our old _tolderia_. After that--"

  "Sh!" interrupts the Paraguayan, leaning over, and speaking in acautious whisper, "Did you not hear something? Like the chinking of abitt curb? I shouldn't wonder if they're in among those bushes.Suppose you stay here and keep watch along the bank, while I go and beatup that bit of cover?"

  "Just as it please you," assents the young cacique, unresistingly.

  "Give me two or three of your fellows along. Not that I have any fearto encounter the _gringo_ alone--poor weak creature, still wearing hisgreen spectacles, I suppose. Far from it. But still there's no harm inhaving help, should he attempt to give trouble. Besides, I'll want someone to look after the _muchachita_!"

  "Take as many as you wish."

  "Oh! two will be sufficient; that pair nearest us."

  He points to the foremost file of the troop, two who are a little olderthan their friends, as also of more hardened and sinister aspect. For,short as has been his stay among them, the subtle emissary has taken themeasure of many members of the tribe; and knows something of the two hethus designates. His gold has made them his friends and allies; inshort, gained them over to him as good for anything he may call uponthem to do.

  Aguara having signified assent, a gesture brings them up; and, at awhispered word from the _vaqueano_ himself, they fall in behind him.

  Heading his horse for the _sumac_ thicket he is soon at its edge, thereseeing what rejoices him--the tracks of both horse and pony passing intoit. He has reached the spot where Halberger turned in along the _tapir_path. Parting the leaves with a long spear--for he is so armed--herides in also, the two Indians after. And just as the tails of theirhorses disappear among the leaves, Aguara, who has kept his place, hearsanother horse neighing within the thicket at a point farther off. Thenthere is a quick trampling of hooves, followed by a hurried rush, andthe swishing of bent branches, as the _vaqueano_ and his two aides dashon through the _sumacs_.

  The young cacique and his followers continuing to listen, soon afterhear shouts--the voices of men in angry exclamation--mingling with themthe shriller treble of a girl's. Then a shot, quick followed by asecond, and a third; after which only the girl's voice is heard, but nowin lamentation. Soon, however, it is hushed, and all over--everythingsilent as before.

  The young Tovas chief sits upon his horse with heart audibly beating.He has no doubt--cannot have--as to who were the pursued ones; no more,that they have been overtaken. But with what result? Has the_vaqueano_ killed both father and daughter? Or were the shots fired byHalberger, killing Valdez himself and the two who went with him? No;that cannot be; else why should the girl's lamenting cries be heardafterwards? But then again, why have they ceased so suddenly?

  While thus anxiously conjecturing, he again hears the trampling ofhorses among the trees; this time evi
dently in return towards him. Andsoon after sees the horses themselves, with their riders--four of them.Three are the same as late left him, but looking differently. TheParaguayan has one arm hanging down by his side, to all appearancebroken, with blood dripping from the tips of his fingers; while thesteel blade of his spear, borne in the other, is alike reddened. Andthere is blood elsewhere--streaming down the breast of one of the youngIndians who seems to have difficulty in keeping upon his horse's back.The fourth individual in the returning cavalcade is a young girl, with acloth tied over her head, as if to hinder her from crying out; seatedupon the back of a pony, this led by the Indian who is still unhurt.

  At a glance, Aguara sees it is Francesca Halberger, though he needs notseeing her to know that. For he had already recognised her voice--wellknew it, even in its wailing.

  "Her father--what of him?" he asks, addressing Valdez, soon as thelatter is up to him, and speaking in undertone.

  "No matter what," rejoins the ruffian, with a demoniac leer. "Thefather is my affair, and he has come very near making it an ugly one forme. Look at this!" he continues, indicating the left arm which hangsloose by his side. "And at that!" he adds, glancing up to the point ofhis spear.

  "Blood on both, as you see. So, Senor Aguara, you may draw yourdeductions. Your affair is yonder," he nods towards the muffled figureon the pony's back; "and you can now choose between taking her home toher mother--her handsome cousin as well--or carrying her to _your_ home,as the queen that is to be of the Tovas."

  The young cacique is not slow in deciding which course to pursue. Theallusion to the "handsome cousin" again excites his jealousy and hisire. Its influence is irresistible, as sinister; and when he and hisfollowers take departure from that spot--which they do almost on theinstant--it is to recross the stream, and head their horses homeward--Francesca Halberger carried captive along with them.

 

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